brca bullshit

Now I just can’t appreciate the mustache joke anymore…

I often walk by two wig shops every day at lunchtime in Old Town. In one of the shop windows, there’s a male mannequin with a wig on his head and a Ron-Burgundy-esque mustache on his face.
I used to laugh with everyone else as we’d joke about how “no one would ever wear a wig like that” or “how ridiculous would that look on someone?”

A few days ago, though, out of the blue, something just gutted me when I walked past and heard a group of young women laughing and pointing at the wigs in the window. It was like I suddenly had a borderline-PTSD flashback to December, when everyone thought that I was going to have to go through chemo.

I remember walking past a wig one day during those uncertain weeks and feeling sad but resolute that if my precious hair (and I do mean precious – I’m not too vain normally, but nearly everyone envies my thick, fine, soft hair) had to go, then I was going to be rocking the neon pink wig I still see in the window everyday.


I even remember how my head itched that day when I thought about covering it with fake hair, and I found myself wondering all of a sudden why they were so funny to people. I just suddenly lost the humor in the situation as I saw my grandmothers wig and my Aunt’s wigs and my cousins’ wigs flashing through my memory – wigs were never funny in my family; they were a coping mechanism, a way for us to survive.

I still see the mustached head almost every day, but since that moment of remembering a few days ago, I have been thinking about the “Mr. White” character in “Breaking Bad” (GREAT show, btw), who started with full facial hair and when his family forced him to go through chemo he shaved his whole head and face…maybe someone like him would like that mustache?
Perhaps to have just a tiny piece of his dignity as he suffers the inhumane suffering and pain demanded by this stupid disease? Really, he’s too badass for any wig or fake mustache, but he was the only example I could think of…

I’m sorry for laughing at you before, wigs. I pretended you weren’t a valuable part of people to me then. I allowed myself to ignore how important dignity and grace are when you are forced to undergo such a terrible ordeal. Honestly, I think I just wanted to ignore the fact that you were almost a part of me.

brca bullshit


Pile of Bras

On Wednesday J asked me to get things ready for GoodWill. So, I went through bags and boxes and drawers and then I came to it: my little basket of bras, tucked away for when everything was healed and I could go back to normal. My Victoria’s Secret bras, my Nordstroms bras, my designer bras, my designer-knock-off bras… my sexy ones, my comfy ones, my rainbow-colored ones and my faded gray-ish white ones. First I lovingly stacked them (the picture to the left isn’t an actual photo, but I did it almost exactly like that), remembering when I had bought them, with what I had worn them, how fashionable I had felt… then I shoved all of them, angrily, into one heap in the bag, and started to sob. And sob. And sob. And sob.

Despite a few similar outbursts having occurred like this, I’m still not sure J knew quite what to do, so he took the bags of clothes to the car, and then came back and hugged me for a while. After that, I felt paralyzed. I said, out loud, “I wasn’t depressed before, but I am now” and I curled up in bed and stared at the wall clutching my duvet and rejecting any and all attempts he made to get me up and moving and doing something fun. My parents called, I ignored them for a while, then answered the phone and said something morose, probably leaving them in a panic, and went back to my semi-comatose state. The cats wandered up after a bit, but didn’t lay against me as they normally do – they kept to the edges of the bed, and seemed unsure of how to react.

Really, I just kept thinking over and over “why would I do this to myself AGAIN?” Why would I put myself through the SAME pain, the same recovery, the same emotional rollercoaster – with no guarantee that it would be any better, that it would decrease the pain or even  worsen it — or even that I would survive another surgery. Surgeries are scary. I did it once. I was brave. I was doing it for my future family. As I laid there I though… “maybe I could live with this pain for the rest of my life.” I’d never be able to pick up my kids. I’d never be able to run. I’d have to diet obsessively to maintain the weight I’ve already put on since the surgery and the absence of physical activity. This pain affects everyone around me as much as it affects me — I can’t do a whole lot on my own anymore.

Still, I’d rather not have another surgery. I’ve said this out loud a few times, but people brush me off and think that I’m silly – of course I’ll have the surgery, of course it will ease the pain, of course the recovery will be easier, of course I won’t lose my job…. of course it won’t cost thousands of dollars to RE-do the surgery that has already been done. But I might not. It might not. It might not be. I just might. It just might. No one can know the what/when/why/where/how of the future. Is it worth the risk?

That being said, my reality line has been a bit blurred lately, and I have trouble making decisions (can you blame me after over 3 straight months of Vicodin and Valium and Wellbutrin and Pristiq as well as nearly a month of Neurontin and other mind-melting drugs…). I find myself standing in a supermarket aisle sometimes staring at the label and I look in my cart and don’t remember putting any of the things in it. So, maybe I’m not qualified to make big decisions like this, but I can’t help asking myself whether I really want to go through all that again? Worse, do I want to put my family through that again? J is moving in with me in 3 weeks — I should be over the moon ecstatic that he is making this commitment and we are taking that next step in our relationship, but all I can think is “is he prepared for all of this?”

More about my thoughts on J: I don’t want him to suffer during our first year “together”. We have had a whirlwind relationship to begin with, and the surgery put a lot of pressure for it to be serious, so I want to enjoy getting to know him even more and spending my days waking up with him and going to sleep with him and laughing and joking and fighting and making up – he deserves that, more than anyone. WE deserve that.

Not: Drains and vomit and expensive prescriptions and bland meals and giant pillows that push him out of bed.
Not: sponge baths and shower chairs and helping me in and out of everything (the car, the bed, the couch, the shower, etc.).
NOT: Feeling responsibility to take care of every little thing and rush home everyday and worry and wish he were at home taking care of me. And, although we both adore them dearly…
NOT: Having my mother and/or father living with us to take care of me all of the time.

He is, without a doubt, the man I want to marry. I have been sure of that since before we even started dating “seriously” and his desire to be with me even DESPITE all of the chaos and the horrible things he’s had to help me through and witness and the pain he’s had to endure watching me go through this — he is an incredible man. He will be a wonderful father to our precious children, and he will be a supportive husband to me, no matter what stage of this health process I may be in. Sure, we have our “squabbles”, but it’s because we’re both very stubborn, and knowing that we are both able to walk away from them feeling the love and respect of the other person is a mark of a great relationship. To be very honest, I do worry (a lot) that he stays with me because he wants to take care of me, but know that he does love me, and with the support that he gives without my even asking for it, I can’t help believe it – even if I feel sometimes that he’s not quite as “sure” as I’ve always been.

Anyone who reads XKCD knows that the author’s (young, I think…) fiancee has been struggling with breast cancer. I think this graphic, is probably what’s going on not only in my head, but probably J’s head as well (although J’s purple would be larger, and my green/pink would be larger, etc.). He wants me to be cancer-free… that’s all he’s concerned about, and the questions he asks are all centered around that idea. But the thing that he said to me off-handedly the other night was what stuck with me: “I’ll support whatever decision you make. We will make it work, one way or another. We are a team.”

That’s something I’ve been saying to him about his job search, and to me, that reaffirms that we are supposed to be together. My angels sent me an angel, and whether I can never wear a cute halter top again, or whether this second surgery really does turn out to be the answer to my prayers, I will be forever grateful for him, and for my family and all of their support. I couldn’t ask for a better safety-net as I walk this tight rope above the unknown.

brca bullshit

Progress? A little. For now.

While the effort made was still sub-par, after the email exchanges (which can be found below), the rest of the phone conversations went like this: *ass kiss* *ass kiss* *ass kiss*

Funny, though – wouldn’t you know it? This stitch that has been plaguing me for TWO MONTHS has started to dissolve and disappear? Incredible timing after I made such a fuss about it… oh well! Bye bye ugly stitch zit!

Current plan: see some big whig plastic surgeon one of my Mom’s friends knows on Saturday morning, get his opinion on some things, maybe see what my BS’s PT Doc/Miracle Worker that she continues to rave about has to offer me… but most definitely have an MRI – I want to SEE that there is no stitch out of place (except the one that was holding the left implant… ::sigh::) and that there’s not some surgical instrument or other foreign body floating around in there causing me this pain that seems to befuddle everyone.

At least one thing is clear: she gets that I’m not crazy, she’s now puzzled too (and seems more determined to come to a solution) and she is looking at things from my perspective for the first time. It’s hard for a surgeon to admit when she’s wrong, so I’ll appreciate the fact that she’s searching for this missing link, even if it did take 3 months to get things moving.

For the record, here were our email exchanges (mine is PINK of course). I post these because I believe in advocating for oneself, and not being talked into or tricked into thinking that you do not know your own body – trust me, you do. If you need help advocating for yourself, you let me know. I love to write angry-but-professional emails! 🙂

  1. Initial Email on 6/26 (see previous post)
  2. BS’ Response on 6/27:

Hi Ms. Holden,

This email is in response to the email that you sent on June 26, 2012 to me, Nurse A and Nurse C.

Recovery from surgery varies from one patient to another patient even when the same surgery has been performed.  However, the concerns you raised should be assessed and I will be glad to examine you in our Center.

It would be very unusual and unlikely to develop something bad like a cancer so soon after a prophylactic mastectomy so in all likelihood what you are feeling is scar tissue and perhaps a slightly enlarged lymph node in the axilla. As we discussed in the past the plastic surgeon does feel that the left implant needs more surgery, but any more surgery especially one that tightens the area may lead to more pain and so I understand your hesitation as well as that of the plastic surgeon. As far as the stitch poking as we discussed I think we are all afraid to make an incision to remove it as that increases the risk of infection, which could lead to other problems.

It sounds like Dr. M and Dr. Ch are helping and I defer to their expertise. Nurse A has left and Nurse C will be leaving soon but again I am happy to see you and take a look at these areas. There might not be anything I can do but I am happy to see you and give you my opinion. I think we need to let you heal and hope that these muscle spasms continue to improve.

3. My response (filled with the boiling rage of a thousand suns, btw) on 6/27:

Dr. C,
Quite frankly, that is exactly the response that I was expecting, but it was not the response for which I was hoping. It does, however, explain why Nurse A has not returned my phone calls or emails. I was told she was my primary point of contact, so while it is a relief to know that I was not being ignored, it is frustrating that her voicemail is still active (in fact I called her today before I called the main number to seek out Nurse C) and it says nothing about her no longer working there, as well as the fact that I get no bounce-backs or auto-forwards/replies from her email either. I hope other patients are not experiencing similar situations.

Basically, what I gathered from your email below is that you DO think that I should be seen, but you DO NOT think that they are worrisome issues in all likelihood. That is what I expected you to say, and I have read much to that effect (although my mind never went to Cancer). I understand that you have to say as little as possible to avoid liability, and I appreciate that you are “happy” to see me in your office. What I do not understand about your email are the following sentences:

  • As we discussed in the past the plastic surgeon does feel that the left implant needs more surgery, but any more surgery especially one that tightens the area may lead to more pain and so I understand your hesitation as well as that of the plastic surgeon.

We have, in fact, not discussed this in the past, but we have discussed how I felt about said plastic surgeon. I am not hesitant to have the issue fixed, I am simply frustrated that it needs fixing – honestly, with as much pain as I am in, a little more does not scare me a bit. I am currently focusing my energy on trying to find a doctor who will treat me with the respect I deserve. Dr. N thought I was “crazy” at 3 weeks needing more pain medicine, so I imagine now, 10 weeks later, he’d probably cling to, if not expand, that unfounded and incorrect preconceived assumption. Being emotional does not equate to being crazy, for the record.

  • As far as the stitch poking as we discussed I think we are all afraid to make an incision to remove it as that increases the risk of infection, which could lead to other problems.

I don’t understand why an incision has to be made if it is poking out of my skin. If I can grasp it with tweezers and pull, then it clearly does not require an incision. The issue is that when my mother or I tried pulling, it felt as though it was stuck on something and will not move much – so it sits, like a giant pimple on the only breast worth looking at. I am not a vain woman, but it is difficult to form a positive self-image at 29 with one pimply (but otherwise fairly formed) breast and one that looks like a Dali painting sitting too near to an open flame.

  •  It sounds like Dr. M and Dr. Ch are helping and I defer to their expertise.

Neither one of these doctors has ever dealt with a mastectomy patient before me, and thus, have no “expertise” where my care is concerned. I wrote the previous email requesting YOUR expertise, because all of the doctors that I see are general care physicians with specializations outside of the scope of my needs – except for you. Even the regular Physical Therapist that I waited over a month to see has no experience with mastectomy patients! Really, I would prefer that everyone STOP deferring to everyone else’s expertise, because it is not getting me the answers that I need.

Additionally, their treatments involve medication and only medication. I take so many pills that sometimes I lose count and have to start again each morning. What I want is to be able to stop taking them – all of them – and I intend to find alternatives to medication to manage (and eventually eradicate) my pain, whether they are offered to me, or whether I have to seek them out at great lengths.

  • There might not be anything I can do but I am happy to see you and give you my opinion. I think we need to let you heal and hope that these muscle spasms continue to improve.

I understand that an opinion on a situation is all that any doctor can give to any patient with just a physical exam, but there are diagnostic tools that as of yet NO doctor has utilized that allow them the ability to give more than just “an opinion”. Ultrasounds and CT Scans and MRIs – no imaging AT ALL has been done post surgery, so if everyone is telling me that I “should be feeling better by now”, then that leads me to believe that there is something wrong. Clearly my situation is uncommon and at the very least worth a second look – but no one has even given it a first look. I hope you will consider these tools, because no one else has, and I would love for you to solve the mystery for me.

I am tired of “healing” time. I am ready to get on with my life. There has to be an explanation for why I am in so much pain and why I have such extreme muscle spasms that people can now see them from across the room (I am not kidding, and I have video if you would like to see it). I have lost countless hours of wages that I desperately need to keep afloat on top of these extraordinary medical bills – copays and medications alone run between $3-400 a month. I need to be able to focus on settling down and starting my family, and enjoying the lack of worry that this surgery was supposed to give me. Instead, I continue to struggle to keep my house clean, have difficulty parallel parking and can send myself into full body spasm if I forget not to grab the hand rail and pull myself up the steps when I am tired.

Please consider my situation with MY glasses on and try to see the world from my perspective. I have been patient, I have been courteous, I have been forgiving, but above all, I have been suffering and I would appreciate it if you would let me know as to whether or not you have any ability at all to help me in any way – or even if you’re committed to trying.

Again, I appreciate your time in reading this, and respect that you are very busy. Now that I know to go through the main number exclusively, I will do that.

4. Her response on 6/28:

Why don’t you come in. If the stitch is sticking out (it wasn’t when I last saw you). I’ll cut it. I’ll tell inova the visit is complimentary.
I have no doubt your frustrated, unfortunately you are unique even for me.  I’d be happy to order imaging but I’m not sure it will help and I don’t want to waste your time and money but we can discuss.

Sent from my iPhone

[Notice a change in tone here? In formality/language? In communication device, even?]

Admitting that they don’t know something or that they could have made an error is hard for surgeons, but I think we’re finally on the right track. They are now (as they should have been all along) connecting the dots and filling in the holes. I am just thankful that it didn’t take 3 MORE months, because she’s the head of the breast care center at the only major hospital covered by my insurance, so I suppose I would have had to have made peace eventually!

Lesson to be learned for those just starting out: Advocate for yourself, because clearly no one else is going to do it for you. Ultimately, you know what’s right, you know what’s best for you – tell them, and if they disagree, ASK WHY. Make them explain EVERY DECISION to you – I was kept in the dark for too much of this process and I felt that led to me getting sub-par care. Just ask questions – and if you don’t like the answer, ask it a different way, or find someone who will give you the answer you are seeking.

Understanding is the key to this lifestyle – if your life is a mystery that even you can’t solve, you are in a pretty bad place!

brca bullshit

Thirteen week “Boobieversary” (and no where near the finish line…)

This is the email I just sent to my breast surgeon:

Hi Dr. Co,

I had not heard any more from your office after my last visit, and now my 3-month “free care” period has elapsed so I don’t know that I can afford a visit, but I have some things that are concerning me, so I am hoping you can tell me whether I need to come and see you. This whole process has been a very frustrating one and I think if I had known that I would suffer this much physically (and financially!), I probably would have just forgone the whole thing and waited for the inevitable – at least with Cancer people don’t ask you “but didn’t you CHOOSE to have this surgery?”. I guess I thought there would be someone checking in on things and that I would be seen more regularly, but instead I feel as though I was seen only when I requested to be seen and frankly, I was routinely sent to the psychiatrist (who does not think that this is an emotional issue, in case she didn’t relay that to you). Below are my concerns, and I would greatly appreciate it if you would give me an honest opinion as to whether any of them seem to be out of the ordinary enough to be worth losing half a day’s pay and paying a copay to schedule an appointment for (or if they are normal occurrences):

1. I have a very hard spot on the right side of my incision on my right breast (which I assume is scar tissue) that is growing larger and larger and is beginning to be disconcerting and even my boyfriend has noticed the increase in size. I have been massaging it like every book in the world says to do, but it is still hard as a rock.

2. I have what feels like a small lump in my left armpit, but it is so painful to touch either armpit that I can’t be sure how big it is, or if there is a corresponding one on the right side (my mobility on the left side is much more limited).

3. The implant on the left side is noticeably lower than it was since my last visit – I don’t know whether this is normal or something about which to be concerned. It is certainly annoying, and painful when in the wrong bra. If I wear the wrong bra (i.e. one that is supportive, but “squishes” the left side) I see bruising the next day.

4. The stitch remains. It looks like a zit, but when the head falls off (like in the shower), if I touch it at all, I can feel the sharp point from the stitch. It is extremely irritating and I sincerely hope that all the other bumps I have appearing all over the right breast don’t break through the skin like this one has.

5.I run a fairly consistent low-grade fever almost every day (usually somewhere between 99.1-99.9, when my normal temp is around 97.4). Last week it spiked to 102 (even after taking a 5/500 Vicodin per my normal morning routine), so my primary care doctor gave me a 3-day Zithromax prescription and that seemed to get rid of the high fever. The sad part is that I didn’t even know I had a fever (or that I was feeling sick at all) because I feel so generally horrible all the time that it took Dr. Ch PA noticing the flop sweat on my forehead to prompt anyone to question whether I was ill – this is a worry to me and often why I “undermedicate” my pain (against Dr. Ch’s orders) because I live in fear of not knowing when something is wrong because I’m taking pain killers.

Just to bring you up to speed:

  • Currently I am still doing physical therapy (which I do not feel is making a difference) and am skeptical that the ultrasonic therapy I am receiving is actually doing anything. I have been doing resistance band exercises (as well as very light modified yoga) at home to supplement this.
  • I am still seeing Dr. Ch and his PA for both trigger point injections (which so seem to help the spasms for a few days, but they will only do the right side because of the bottomed out implant on the left) and medication management.
  • I am currently taking: 300mg Neurontin 3x a Day, 5/500 Vicodins every 6 hours (I usually can do with 2, and I try to take as little as possible because I fear that, as I said above, I won’t know if there’s something SERIOUSLY wrong if I mask the pain all the time), and 2 10mg Valiums (one in the morning and one at night, although I usually only do half at night since the spasms generally only happen when I am pulling or pushing with my arms).
  • Also, while I feel that this should have no bearing whatsoever on my pain discussions, somehow I feel as though so far all of the doctors I have seen have chalked up my emotional reactions (which are genuinely in response to my frustration about being in pain or to being in EXTREME pain, as was the case with the physical therapist) to my psychiatric health, Dr. M would be happy to call and report on my emotional well-being to whomever is necessary – I see her regularly, and she has reassured me that this pain is genuine and not emotional or related to depression or anxiety.
I understand that this long email is taxing to read, and I appreciate your taking the time to read it, but I do hope you understand my frustration at not being taken seriously the last time I was seen. I wasn’t even examined aside from you telling me that the stitch hadn’t broken the skin (even though my mother had it in her tweezers the day before but was too afraid to pull on it), and then you mentioned something about the lack of Klonopin being the issue for the pain (which never made sense to me because I can’t take Klonopin with Valium). I do appreciate you connecting with my other doctors, and I do appreciate [Nurse C] getting me physical therapy spots (even though I just got a very large bill saying that they are out of network – an issue I will take up with [Nurse A and/or Nurse C] separately), but I am 29 years old and I can’t lift my vacuum cleaner or take out my own garbage cans or even pay my bills because every time I turn around there’s another $30 copay that is a direct result of something that happened in this surgery – the one that is now causing me constant pain. Everyone else I know that had this surgery is back at the gym already and lifting their children and moving furniture around, but I struggled to lift my 12lb cat to take him to the vet.

Please help me understand what is normal and what is not so that I can save the money (and save you the time). If any of these things seem abnormal, please call me or have someone call me and tell me when I need to be seen.

Thank you again for taking the time to read this. I look forward to hearing from you soon.


You tell me – is that an email that someone at 13 weeks should be writing? Should I have to update my own doctor on the status of my treatment? Should I have to advocate for myself to find “in network” providers when my doctors insist they use the “experts” they recommend? I’m not a doctor, no, but at this point, I am feeling like I know more about what is going on with me than she does… and that is both sad and scary.

brca bullshit

Eight Week “Boobie” Versary

Today was my first *real* physical therapy session, and it was amazing. Like…the most painful massage in the world, but I felt looser and I learned a lot, which are two good goals.

That is… until I woke up the next morning and couldn’t move. Everything was right back to the way that it was while on the patch and I was MISERABLE. Plus, the physical therapy place keeps screwing up my appointments, and I’m having what leave I have earned slowly dripping away.

I hate this. I hate 100% of this, and sometimes I question whether I doing this to myself was a mistake. Everyone who’s been through chemo and radiation and much worse pain would scoff at my selfishness… but in some ways, I imagine my pain compares some to their own.

Work is, however, getting better and while my boss and I are at odds over leave and hours, she’s trying to be flexible with me and has noticed the EXTREME improvement in my work – both ethic and productivity. This is a pace I’m not sure I can keep up, but at least I’m not staring at the wall anymore.

brca bullshit

And I Pray

To my family, my friends, my handsome man…a thousand thank-yous would never convey the gratitude I feel for your love and support.

After tomorrow, I won’t need to pray nightly that the next day or week or month will be the day that I feel a lump where a lump wasn’t before. I don’t need to pray every time the phone rings that it won’t be bad test results or a doctor telling me I need to have a follow-up test run. My angels will carry me through this surgery and I will wake up ready to start my new life. No more black cloud…only blue skies and happiness.

So now, I pray for anyone struggling to make the decision I did. I pray for all those having complications from their surgeries, and for those that are struggling mentally or physically with the effects of this teeny mutant.

Sure, I pray my surgery goes smoothly, and I pray my pathology reports are clear and I pray that I have an easy recovery…but somehow, I know that whether it’s an easy road or a hard one, I have so many willing and loving helpers that I’ll make it through.

Love to you all–pictures to come either tomorrow or Wednesday! 🙂

brca bullshit

Feeling scared.

I know it’s hard to admit when we feel scared, but I went to bed last night feeling scared and didn’t sleep a wink. I’m exhausted, weepy and altogether not myself, and as it’s my last week of work before the surgery, I’m really feeling pressured to get a lot done. I have an appointment with my head shrinker tomorrow, but I’m almost wondering if I shouldn’t call her today….

Also, last night J and I had a conversation that I thought was just a conversation, but he read more like an annoying discussion/minor argument. I didn’t even realize that he was upset until he said the word “goodbye” in a weird tone – so I obsessed over that all night wondering what I did that could have caused him to be upset with me. That got me super emotional because I’m so afraid of everything falling apart right now or projecting my frustrations on him or pressuring him or doing anything except making him as happy as he makes me … it’s like a time travel trip back to January to before the medicines and the yoga and the meditation, and THOSE WERE NOT GOOD TIMES.

Then, it got worse: after no sleep at all, when I got up, I completely forgot that I had my scheduled pre-op conversation today, and she told me that if I had any sign of an infection to go to my doctor immediately. I get off the phone with her, go to the bathroom and suddenly I feel like I have a yeast infection! I wasn’t sure what to do – should I ignore it? Could it be problematic for my surgery? I’m kind of irritated and emotional and stressed… could it be a manifestation of that and not anything actual at all? I’ve been running around all day trying to ask different doctors if I can take this or that before the surgery and playing phone tag – I feel like everything is falling apart – and just yesterday I was *so* together!

I cannot wait for this to be over. If they move my surgery for a little yeast, I will LOSE. MY. SHIT. Still, I know my guardian angels up there will take care of me, so whatever happens will be for the best. I’m a little more zen now because of another calming call from J (who really does go above and beyond) and finally getting in touch with some of the doctors… just not my BS, who really needs to give me the okay to take the medicine. Fingers crossed.



brca bullshit

What’s the big deal about “I love you” anyway?

I just accidentally told my brand new boyfriend (GB) of just about a month that I loved him. I didn’t mean to say it – I meant to say “I love all these things about you” … but then I said it. By accident… but, in a strange kind of way, I meant it. The thing is, I didn’t mean it the way you normally mean it when you say it to someone you’re dating. To his credit, he was so graceful and kind about it (as is his way), saying that he he cared about me a lot and that he just wanted a little more time to be sure of his feelings … and I finally had to stop him and explain how I was feeling when I said it.

When I got off that BB plane, I was a mess. The last thing he said to me about our relationship was “I’m just not that attracted to you”. I felt like an ant getting ready to be squashed by a giant foot. I felt so tiny and insignificant that I would come home and hold my cats like little babies and sob about the fact that the last man ever to see my beautiful, perky, perfect natural breasts was someone who didn’t even appreciate them. I was wrecked. So wrecked, in fact, that random friends and family members had to start showing up and checking on me … I suspect to make sure I wasn’t dead.

Then, just after my birthday (aka doomsday), enter GB, patient as ever. He saved me. He understood why I made the decision I did regarding that damn plane, he listened as I lamented my poor choice, and in one evening undid all that BB destruction. He was *present*, and listened and just knew that what I needed was to feel like a person. What I needed was not to be afraid, to be perhaps a little distracted and comforted. So, I’m owning this. The reasons I love him are this, (whatever kind of love we’re talking about):

  • He lets me cry. And he doesn’t even tell me when I look ugly and blotchy and snotty and gross. He holds me tight and sometimes wipes away my tears.
  • He tells me I’m beautiful. Clothed, unclothed, semi-clothed… he appreciates me, and understands the sacrifice I’m going to make. He is sad for the same reasons I’m sad… and relieved and excited for the same reasons I’m relieved and excited. He is ready for me to feel at peace and be healthy.
  • We can talk about anything. I mean anything. Gross bathroom things included.
  • He is so smart I learn something every time I talk to him.
  • He charms my friends (the few that he’s met, anyway).
  • He calls me every day he’s not with me… and not because I ask him to, but because he wants to.
  • He loves kids. He smiles at them, and talks about them fondly, and they love him right back. He wants kids. He is a kid-minded man. There are few of those left in the world.
  • My cat (my evil cat – yes, the one that is on prozac!) is in love with him. Here is photographic proof ————————–>20120304-224339.jpg
  • He endures hours of shopping with me and keeps the eye-rolling to a minimum. When I held up a shirt with a wide neck and asked if I would be able to step into it, he said, “no, babe, your hips are too big”. Honesty is important, right? 😛
  • He does the dishes a lot.
  • He did laundry last weekend too. [Edit: and this weekend!]
  • He’s very, very, very, very, very sweet/handsome/everythingyouwantinaman
  • He wants to meet my parents, so we’re going up next weekend!

I think he understands more now how I meant it. Not in a relationship “big step” way, but more in a “this is the best thing that could have happened to me ever and I’m loving every moment of it” way. I am so grateful for second chances. I’d say it a million times if I had to, just to convey the gift he gave me (and continues to give me). What a lucky girl I truly am.


Head Shrinking

A while back my PCP put me on some anti-anxiety meds and they allowed me to focus on what was going on a little better…but those tears still leaked out any time a touchy subject was brought up.

So, I made an appointment with the (note: ONLY) psychiatrist who deals with Medication mgmt in my insurance plan, and I went to see her. Boy was I surprised to find her eager to talk about my feelings, but also to explain why the anti-anxiety meds were taking the edge off, but not helping me as much with the sadness…so she prescribed me a heavy duty SSRI. Now, if I have to go on Tamoxifen, going to have to come off of it, but she thinks it will help with the emotional control. Mostly I’m just scared to be taking this many pills, but the more I read online, the more I realize that’s perfectly acceptable, especially in situational depression like mine.

So… drug me up some more, I guess, as I’ve got to get through 4 more weeks of work and the crying has GOT to stop. Seeing her again next Saturday, so let’s hope I see some good results with this pill…


Calmer Waters

Good Guy is back. Hesitantly at first, but now pretty solidly. It’s like I’m Ingrid Berman and I get a second chance with Humphrey Bogart!

The best part: he understands. He knows it’s tough to get here and that I won’t be able to drive for a while…he knows why I got on the plane, but even still, he waited for me to tell the pilot to turn around and head back to where I knew I should be. This decision makes MUCH more sense to me, even it isn’t the most “pragmatic” decision.

Sigh. We’ll see how he feels after the surgery, but just now, things are feeling pretty damn good.

*Edited to be made public 3/1/12*

brca bullshit

Two Guys, One Girl … it’s like a sitcom!

I was sort of seeing two guys. I picked one, but I’ll let you guess.

I met one ages ago on OKCupid when Chris and I split up and I was really trying to make some friends. He’s dark and brooding, handsome but knows it, plays a shit ton of video games and smokes a shit ton of cigs… we talk about movies and records and he reminds me faintly of a brooding John Cusak in High Fidelity. But he lives close by, he has a car, he has a great job, he takes me out… but there’s still that selfish side that I see peeking through that maybe won’t fair well in the long run. I also have this nagging feeling that I’ll never be good enough for him. Basically, he’s the bad (but very convenient) boy.

The other I met a few weeks ago on OKCupid and our first date was really sweet. He lives in Takoma with no car, so he metroed to King St. and walked down to the pub to meet me. He’s a big guy – tall, handsome, nice smile, and I feel instantly comfortable with him. He’s currently temping and doesn’t have a lot of job prospects though, so his constant self-deprecation is a tiny turn-off. Still, he’s funny and smart, and we talk about family and Ireland and what we want for our futures — basically, things that really warm my heart. He’s definitely the good (but inconvenient) boy.

When I found out the lump had grown last week, I told them both, and decided to choose partly based on their responses. Bad boy admitted that he was scared and good boy said it was a lot to be thinking about as we just met…. but I knew in my heart that surgery was in my near future, so there was no point in sugar coating it.

So, you know that scene in “When Harry Met Sally” where Harry and Sally are arguing about the end of Casablanca?

Sally: You're wrong.
Harry: I'm not wrong, he wants...
Sally: You're wrong.
Harry: ...he wants her to leave that's why he puts her on
the plane.
Sally: I don't think she wants to stay.
Harry: Of course she wants to stay. Wouldn't you rather
be with Humphrey Bogart than the other guy?
Sally: I don't want to spend the rest of my life in Casablanca
married to a man who runs a bar. I probably sound very snobbish to you
but I don't.
Harry: You'd rather be in a passionless marriage.
Sally: And be the first lady of Czechoslovakia.
Harry: Than live with the man you've had the greatest sex
of you life with, and just because he owns a bar and that is all he does.
Sally: Yes. And so had any woman in her right mind, woman are very practical, even Ingrid Bergman which is why she gets on the plane at the end of the movie.

Needless to say… I got on the plane. I’m not sure about it, and gosh I hate the smell/taste of those cigarettes, but he’s got a job and security and a car and he lives near me…. those are all the wrong reasons to like someone, but right now, those seem very, very important. My heart says GOOD BOY, but my brain says BAD BOY and like Sally says: “so would any woman in her right mind, women are very practical”. Sigh. I hope I’m making the right decision.

*Edited to be made public on 2/29/12*