Never gonna let you down
Never gonna run and desert you
Yeah- you’ve been Rickrolled. Deal with it. 🙂
I don’t have a ton to say, but it seems like I’d be remiss to let the third anniversary of my bilateral mastectomy go without being marked in some way… and the most appropriate way I can think of is an Oregon red, and a little web babbling.
I’ve actually had a super interesting summer. My company gives employees a 6 week sabbatical after 7 years at the agency, which I hit last December. I held off taking it until summer, when my teacher hubby and student son would be off as well… and you are allowed to add two weeks of vacation time on to the 6 weeks off, so it’s now been 7 weeks since I’ve been to work. One more before I’m due to return.
The BIG thing we did was take a trip to Ireland. We’ve talked about it as a once in a lifetime, but I have every intention of going back, so that’s kind of a misnomer. However, it was the first time my hubby, my kid or I had been off of the continent, and it was pretty awesome.
The other big thing I’ve been up to is catching up with friends who I haven’t seen in a while… at least in person. That’s been pretty great, although it’s funny, even though I think I’ve been open with my health to the point of being obnoxious, I’ve still managed to drop a couple of my cancer bombs on people.
Me: Well, you know, and then there was the whole cancer thing a couple of years ago…
Them: What? What cancer thing?
Me: <mentally gearing up to tell the story, AGAIN> Oh… I assumed you knew…<shortest possible version of story>
To be clear, I assume that people have much more interesting things to talk about and/or pay attention to than my health, but when I kept posting pics of my fuzzy head, I keep assuming that somehow people are tangentially aware.
Whatever.
So still nothing new, my health is still great for a 41 year old, artificially menopaused, breast cancer survivor. I’ve lost some more weight, which is great. Still no evidence of disease, although for my last day of sabbatical I’ve got the yearly GYN ultrasound scheduled… because nothing says vacation like a trans-vaginal ultrasound, am I right?
I’d meant to find a hobby this summer. I keep trying them, but I haven’t found anything other than reading trashy romance novels that sticks.
I was also planning to find a volunteer thing I love to do that I could continue on a regular basis, but all I managed to do is drag the kid out to help with Obliteride. I will probably do the 10 miler next year. All proceeds go to Women’s Cancer @ Fred Hutch, and since as I pointed out, I have given them blood, breast tissue, DNA, and pretty much anything else they’ve asked for in the name of making this cancer shot go away, I figured giving time was the least I can do.
I am getting better at Zen, que sera, sera, or whatever. I don’t mean that when there’s a fight to be had I will lay down. But I’m trying to be better at picking my battles.
The best news of this whole time has been that my mom’s chemo has been successful. They started with chemo, planning to do surgery, and by the time she was done, there was nothing on her PET scans to cut out. BIG DAMN DEAL. Unfortunately they are keeping her on a lower dose of chemo for the foreseeable future (again, lovely Oregon red, so I’m blanking on if it’s for 6 months or 12) but still better.
I worry about my parents, neither of them are getting any younger, but I don’t always call, figuring they’re busy. And they don’t call, figuring I’m busy. I’m sure there’s some cat in the cradle thing going on there, but it brings me home to my best lesson of the summer.
I’ve said it before, and since I’m planning to have at least 47 more years here, I’d bet I’ll say it again, but carpe your damn diem. Gather ye rosebuds.
There has not been one single case in the last few weeks, hell, in the last three years, where I’ve reached out to someone, even just to say hello, and I’ve regretted it.
We ALL assume that other people are too busy.
Any maybe they are, but even just being reminded that we think of each other feels good. It doesn’t have to be someone’s birthday to ping them on Facebook. Or send a text.
Really, life is too short to give each other up.