Thriving!

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Hey y'all....it's me....

What is it with rainy afternoons and me sitting at my desk pouring my thoughts out onto "paper"?  Let me tell ya' I feel a little bit like the 1980's have exploded in my head, I know that doesn't make any sense right now but it will in time, it will all come together with time.  First, I need to get a few details out of the way....treatment....(insert gong like music here).  I am starting my treatment off with a bang, clap, and boom on Thursday May 4th as I am scheduled to have surgery at 6 pm that evening.  Nothing like going big or going home.  The goal will be to remove my ovaries and Fallopian tubes in an effort to rid my body of estrogen at the source.  This way those pac-man like little furry cancer fuckers won't be able to gobble through my bones feeding off the estrogen and continue to grow bigger and stronger and even furrier than what they are.  Again, I wish I could insert some music here because that is exactly what I imagine when I think of my bone mets - just like pac-man - get the 80's reference. 😉  So come Thursday evening, have a drink for me, play some hard ass music with a lot of profanity, and maybe blow off a firework just for shits and giggles because that night I will begin to kick ass against cancer!  I will come home Friday morning and that evening begin my oral medications to ensure any estrogen left over is obliterated - ultimate goal - shutting the fuckers down and getting into remission.

I will apologize up front and say my thoughts are ping ponging around my head like a game of Pong - 80's again - not sure why this keeps happening.  It has been a whirlwind of rolling tides this week, successes, failures, happy and sad tears.  I swear when I am on a high, John is on a low.  🌊

There is a pattern to a diagnosis of this magnitude, it truly requires a secretary to handle all of the juggling of appointments, tests, prescriptions and what not....there is so much back and forth that I have a minor case of whiplash from everything happening to me and around me.  On top of the crazy schedules, you are overstimulated with emotions and information and if you are a control freak like I am, you have a list a mile long of everything you want done before your batteries run out and your body is screaming for rest.  I have survived a 4 hour MRI - praise the Lord for Liz who held my hand, reminded me to keep my eyes closed, and peeled me off the ceiling when I could no longer take the pain.  I have successfully scheduled surgery, met with the doctor performing the surgery and feel so ready that I wish it was happening tomorrow.  I have received my first Xgeva shot - you know that commercial right....XGEVA READY?  I wish I could insert the jingle here.  I battled over getting my $10,000 medicine filled.....yep....that's right.....but for now it looks as if my insurance is going to cover most of it.  Only thinking of for now, can't imagine what will happen if it won't be covered.  I have worked hard at eating healthy, drinking lots of water, napping when needed, and screaming / crying / laughing / venting when necessary.  Those are my successes for the week. 💗

My failures....everyone has them....we grow from them, we learn from them, and we blossom out of the ashes of our failures.  For me, the biggest failure that I am having (though I think I can say John is suffering from the same) is giving in to the demon on my shoulder.  For me, his name is Chuckie...the Cancer Bitch, he is constantly giving me a mind fuck over and over again.  Chuckie appears mostly at night but even sometimes in the light of day.  He whispers little cancerism's in my ears to throw me off my game, he isolates me to make me feel alone as if the world is happening without me.  Chuckie is a bitch of the highest order and sometimes I swear I can hear his evil little laugh as the doubts creep in and I allow the mind fuck to happen.  There are times when I can kick him off balance and as he falls to the floor, I can knock him flat out of this universe - those are the successes I relish the most.  When I don't allow cancer to have the power....when I literally take the power back and tell Chuckie to go back to the 80's and leave me the hell alone.  💢

There is something about owning this power for me that I can't explain.  Everything happened so fast, one minute I am lifting a  25 pound ball doing calf raises and the next I can barely walk around the block.  It turned me upside down and I feel shaken like a dirty martini.  I have to take the power back....part of that is knowing my treatment start date, that helps.  Part of it is recognizing a few hard truths about myself.  I am a person who doesn't like to be alone in crisis.  I am strengthened by those supporting me, I am stronger for each and everyone of you.  I am terrified of the isolation and because of that I will fight hard against it.  This cancer journey is mentally lonely.  I am physically surrounded by so many friends and family, loving and supporting me but mentally, I am alone on an island of one.  It can be so hard to deal with that mental isolation.  🍸

I am more than just this cancer....I am reminding myself I am still Jo.  I am reminding all of you, I am still Jo.  I am planning things I want to experience not because I am counting my days but because who doesn't make plans.  I want to see concerts and fields full of tulips - my absolute favorite flower.  I want to shop with my kids, laugh with my friends and be laughed at for the stupid Jo like things I do.  I want someone to talk to me about the latest fashion trend or the cute new place to visit in town.  I want to forget what is inside me eating my bones, I want you to forget sometimes too.  I want you to know that's OK....it's OK to call me out on my shit, it's OK to see us smile.  I want to imagine Amsterdam with my faithful friends because I will get there one day, I promise.  I need to be hugged but also popped on the head when I am only talking about what I can't do.  I need to remember what I can do everyday.  I need to be open to learning how to cope, how to workout in this new body, how to accept myself and love myself for me in spite of Chuckie the cancer bitch. 💪

Another success...I expanded my vocabulary and knowledge.  I plan to share a little bit about Metastatic BC each time I write.  This journey is about me not only finding my voice but also raising it to the heavens for all to hear about this unspoken disease.  I hope y'all don't mind listening.  I found out that some people with Metastatic BC call themselves lifers, or thrivers, or metsers.  I realized I am still attached to my pink ribbon but I am a thriver now.  The term thriver allows me to picture health in abundance, a field of flowers thriving, a garden lush with vegetables, a litter full of strong healthy adorable puppies thriving with life.  I am going to be a thriver....words and thoughts have energy.  Our words, thoughts, and actions can create our reality, it can shape our lives, so with that said....I am a going to thrive.  And when I am down because I am smart enough to know that is the ebb and flow of life, especially for someone with this type of disease....I want you to remind me of who I am now.  I am a thriver.   😇

Peace ✌
Jo

PS.....sorry for the colorful language running through this post.  For those who find it hard to hear, I wish I could say it differently but this is me, this was old Jo, this is cancer Jo, and this is new Jo....