Define "survivor"

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 31, 2011 6:36 PM, EDT

We all know the lyrics to one of the best karaoke songs out there. The song is clearly a strength anthem...and perhaps the best break up song of all time. The lyrics depict a woman scorn who isn't taking anymore, and she is screaming it from the proverbial mountain top.  We can picture Gloria Gaynor sniffling for the last time, picking up the pieces, and moving on. And she makes us proud to be a woman. She gives us hope:

 Go on now go - walk out the door

just turn around now

'cause you're not welcome anymore

weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye

did you think I'd crumble 

did you think I'd lay down and die?

Oh no, not I - I will survive

as long as I know how to love

I know I'll stay alive

I've got all my life to live

I've got all my love to give

and I'll survive

I will survive

Do you remember your first break up? I remember thinking that the world was coming to an end. With the phone in my hand (oh, yeah, it was a land-line), I was hunched over in my bed, bawling my eyes out. I remember saying to Clint (that'd be the boy who gets the left boob in a box), "Now I know why they call it a heart-break...my chest hurts so bad that I'm afraid my heart is actually breaking in two!"Soooo 17, right?! 

And those break-ups never got any better. Even if you are the one doing the breaking up...it still hurts...like you are losing a little bit of who you are. Little do you know that those are just growing pains...you're just getting a little stronger.  A little more strong so that the next time around, you can handle it with a little more grace, only to find out it isn't any easier each time. It may, however, hurt a little less long, and allow you to get to "I will survive"  a little more quickly.

Big sis Tiff has been telling me to let it go, but my most graceful (and memorable) break up to date was with Nathan...our one and only break up. It was the day after my 24th birthday party, which happened to be held the day before my 24th birthday. You do the math. He came over to my house, gave me a lovely framed picture of a purple flower, and dumped me. It was shocking! Not only was I floored that he dumped me when I didn't see it coming from a mile away (and I consider myself to be pretty intuitive, almost to a level of paranoid - yes, Mama, I said almost!), but it was my birthday!Seriously? Seriously. Oh no, hold your gasp - we had booked a cruise for 4 weeks out just a week prior. Seriously. I looked at him, keeping my cool, and said, "Okay. Go sow whatever oats you need to sow. But don't take long, and don't go too crazy because I'm not waiting forever. I'm going to marry you, Nathan Frey." Turns out, I didn't have to wait long at all...cruises seem to work wonders for our relationship. We clearly got back together on that cruise...in Cozumel. We returned to the Riviera Maya to make it official when we married on the beach in 2005. We survived. It's kind of our thing. Except I never let it go. I pretty much bring that up every February 9th just to remind him of what a bad idea that really was. Sorry, Tiff, I just cannot let it go. At least I laugh about it!

Dictionary.com defines "survivor" as "one who continues to function or prosper despite opposition, hardship, or setbacks." Setback? Seriously? Okay, I'll take setback. I've said since the beginning that this whole cancer thing is a big, old inconvenience, and I stand by that. So I'll accept setback. But let's not focus on the setback. Let's focus on "function and prosper." Function is defined as "to perform a specified action or activity; work; operate." But it is prosper that makes me smile. To prosper is "to besuccessful and fortunate; thrive; flourish." Go on, give it to me...smile. One who continues to operate and thrive/flourish regardless of a big, old inconvenience...survivor. One is considered a survivor from the moment of diagnosis. I'm a survivor.

A few years after Gloria Gaynor sang I Will Survive, Destiny's Child took it to another level when Beyonce' belted out a new tune along the same lines. Another strength anthem for a woman scorned...vowing to survive on the strength that she has built from break up to break up. The song is strong, bold, and solid:

 I'm a survivor

I'm not gonna give up, I'm not gon' stop

I'm gonna work harder,

I'm a survivor

I'm gonna make it

I will survive, Keep on survivin'

I'm a survivor

I'm not gonna give up, I'm not gon' stop

I'm gonna work harder

I'm a survivor

I'm gonna make it

I will survive, Keep on survivin'.

Well, I'm breaking up with cancer. And I need all my girls out there to help me give it the boot...we're kicking cancer to the curb, ladies. And I need your help. So sing it with me, loud and proud...I'm a SURVIVOR, I'm gonna make it, I will survive, keep on survivin'.

We'll be in Montgomery with the kids this weekend, visiting friends and family. On the agenda? Relaxation and Church of the Ascension on Sunday! A special thanks to the friends who are dog/house-sitting for us in Louisville...I really need this trip, and you've made it possible! 

I got a call today from my *fabulous* Oncology Nurse Leslie. They are placing me on a medication to control my neuropathy (numbness) symptoms, and we are moving forward with chemo next week. I never thought I'd say this, but this is really great news - I need all the chemo I can get! I have to say, though, I am going to miss the numbness of feet - I bought a killer pair of shoes yesterday that I couldn't feel today...I'm going to call that a "perk."  

PS...I found my funny! It was hiding in my heart behind the fear and loathing...but I found it, and it's good to have it back!

Bean

Golden Fears

SUNDAY, AUGUST 28, 2011 10:10 AM, EDT

Golden Fears

Make new friends, but keep the old.

One is silver and the other - gold.

We learn this important little ditty in childhood. I was a"Brownie" on my first overnight camp out when I learned this song. I was roasting marshmallows on a metal hanger. All of the Brownies were in a circle, surrounding a fire, and I had no idea what this song meant. I didn't understand why friends couldn't all be gold, which of course was better than silver.

Power outages. Spiders and snakes. Complete silence.Failure. Losing love. Losing passion. Losing...period.

Our fears are our deepest secrets. They make us vulnerable...at risk for exposing weakness. We are reluctant to share them in the rare instance that we come across someone who can use them against us. We tell ourselves we don't have them. We lie. 

Cancer brings to light a whole new set of fears, and it makes the old ones seem less complicated...less important...less reflective. More silver. Still there, but not at the forefront of thought. I can try my best to hide my new goldenfears, but the fact of the matter is this: if I cannot release them from my mind, they will consume me. The last couple of weeks have been very powerful for me. They have forced me to look inside myself and admit my fears, and for that I am both resentful and grateful. I know that this is a part of the healing and grieving process, but it caught me off-guard. I wasn't prepared for the emotional surge or the loneliness that I have felt during this period of time. After all, with the support that I have, how can I feel so lonely? Is that even possible?

In the short term, I fear that my foot numbness could be permanent. Dr. Hargis said that we may stop chemo after this past infusion because of this. Now one might think that a little foot and hand numbness is bearable considering the alternative of the rogue cells setting up camp, right? But if my feet are numb, the chance of falling is high. And if my hands are numb, I could drop things...like my children. Not so bearable. Can you imagine never feeling your child's face with your fingers again? How do you cope with that kind of loss? 

Rogue cells. Rogue cells terrify me. I don't want to be "living with breast cancer." I want to fight breast cancer, and I want to win. If I win, it goes away. It isn't hanging around looking for somewhere else to go. Chemo helps to fight the rogue cells. But if chemo isn't shrinking my tumor, it's probably not working on the rogue cells either. If this new chemo works, but I cannot have all 4 treatments, what does that mean for the rogue cells?At what point do the benefits of chemo outweigh the risks?

"Titless Tina Tatum" will be making her debut again in late October/ early November. How in the world have I let this teenage nickname of mine resurface in such a prominent light and get to me?! It bothers me now more than it ever bothered me as a 15 year-old! Who would have thought in 1994 that it would have such meaning 17 years later? And has it really been 17 years?! I've been a God-given 36DD since I was a Freshman in Tuscaloosa, and I cannot imagine life without Bess and Gretchen. I asked Nathan the other day if I could "down-size" during my reconstruction, to which he quickly replied, "I am not answering that...it sounds like a trap." He's probably right...there's probably no way he could have answered that question without creating some sort of conflict, and I applaud his ability to edit. I keep looking in US magazine and the Vickie's catalog for the right size and shape for Yvette and Shelby, but the truth is that I am not having "cosmetic" surgery. I am having "reconstructive" surgery, which will likely look amazing as long as I have clothes on. But underneath those clothes, I will never look the same, and the thought of that scares me. At 32 years old, I have never not felt sexy when it came to my breasts. From the moment I got them, I loved the attention they attracted. They are voluptuous and fun, and by golly they make me happy. I had a boyfriend once who told me that I "ooze" sexiness. That's going to gross Mama and Nathan out, but I always thought that was such a compliment...that my sex confidence was so high that I oozed sexiness. So when I think about what my breasts will be like after my reconstruction - clinical, pieced-together, numb, scars in place of nipples - I can't help but feel like a part of me will be missing. I hope that a piece of my soul does not go with them. At 32, I should still be oozing sexiness.

Death does not scare me...as long as it happens when I am old and grey and I have lived a full life! What scares me the most is leaving my children behind with no mother. That they may never have the joy of knowing how big "better than the whole world" really is. That they will not know how to treat a woman with love and respect because they haven't seen how loving and respectful their father can be with me...or that they might see him be that way with someone else. That some unknown else may have the joy of raising my children as her own. Missing soccer games, graduations, proms, weddings, grandchildren. Until I am awake from my surgery and someone tells me that my lymph nodes are clear, this will haunt me. No one can prepare you for these thoughts, and no one can take them from you.

My priest from Reno, Father Kirk wrote me an email weeks ago to tell me that he is reading my blog. He said not to edit and to keep telling the truth - he said "there is God in the truth." So there you have it - my unfunny and candid golden fears. And with the price of gold these days, who can afford to withhold them? Somehow it does feel better to get them off my chest...figuratively speaking, of course. And somehow my fears have become my friends - they have given me a sense of reflection that I didn't care to see before - a peek inside myself. And the silver ones are no less importantthan the gold...worth, after all, is relative.

Dear Chemo...#5

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 17, 2011 8:11 PM, EDT

Dear Chemo...#5

Dear Chemo,

You are my new friend! You are the second chemo I've met, and although we've only met once, I appreciate you despite the random sharp pains and numb feet. Thank heaven's Dr. Hargis gave me the other chemo first, because if he had started with you, I might not have made it through the 2nd round...it would have been so much worse...

He was clearly holding out on the good stuff! I haven't had nausea meds in over a week - a nice change from the 4 different nausea meds that I was on during the first 2 months of chemo #1. And I have not been as completely exhausted...I am able to actually play with my children after a full day of work instead of lying on the couch like a bump on a log, waving at them with a blank stare on my face. No...indeed, it is quite the opposite - I have energy.

I don't know how long this will last, Chemo. I know that you are still depleting my blood counts every two weeks, and that I will start off lower every time. But I will hold this two weeks in my heart, and I will remember you fondly. This was just the kick in the pants I needed to get my funny back and push through the next 6 weeks...yep, that's right! Only 3 more treatments to go over 6 weeks!! Then another MRI (crossing fingers and praying constantly for response to you). Then surgery...lots of surgery.

But for now, you little Pacific-Yew-tree, all-natural-chemo you, let's stay focused and kick some cancer booty!

Thank you (oh yes, I said thank you),

Bean