I thought I was going to write this blog last night.
My work trip went pretty well, although I think I’ve started to have some minor hot flashes. I still get cold at random times too, but there were a couple of times in New York where other people were talking about the weather being pleasant, and I’m fighting off a flop sweat. However, other than that, the Tamoxifen still seems to be going OK. I have noticed those moments when I can’t quite come up with a word… but that happens when I’m tired or working too many hours as well.
So I was going to write about my hair coming back, or the nice kid who bought me a drink when I decided to ditch the scarf on the last night and he overheard me say something about my cancer. His mom is a survivor.
But then I got a call last night from someone who is very important to me, and we thought beat cancer two years ago. Evidently there’s a new tumor. It’s back.
I don’t want to go into it because it’s not my story to tell, but really, fuck you cancer. We’ve broken up, I’m moving on, cue Taylor Swift. This does not mean you get to go hook up with your ex to get back at me.
So today, I’ve been a little morose. And personifying cancer. So maybe the Tamoxifen IS making me lose my mind.
But I’m refusing to let the cancer get me down. My person texted me this morning and said “maybe it is just a mistake,” which is not what I’m counting on here. I’m counting on more ass kicking.
So here’s today’s updated pic of my hairy egg-like head:
And an hour or so ago I got a letter from the Young Survival Coalition, saying my wonderful friend Mary Beth made a donation in my name. She said, “In honor of 2012 being the year you BEAT CANCER I’m making a donation in your name to help other young women in the Seattle area who are diagnosed with breast cancer. May your Ninja powers help others in their fight against cancer.” I didn’t cry yesterday. Mary Beth made me cry.
So to Mary Beth, and the guy at the bar in NYC and to my person, the fight goes on. Fuck you cancer! We will fight, and we will win!