Sunday, April 8 – It was Saturday, time for another breakdown

As I alluded to in yesterday’s post, I did my laundry and some housework.  The housework ended up consisting of me cleaning up the kitchen table; finally throwing away junk that had piled up for weeks and months….  And finally sorting through my yearly files, removed what could be shredded from 2017, filed the stuff that needs to be saved and put those out in the garage for when I have time and energy to actually add them to the storage box and I can remove 2009 files for shredding.  I also set up my folders for 2018 records and got all those sorted into the correct files.

When I took my basket full of laundry out to the laundry room, the last three bras that I wore were still hanging there from drying.  I finally took them down.  Just a little twinge from the dragon when I set them aside in the pile for Goodwill.  I’m not sure what I am going to do with them yet.

The Toothless Wonder Cat followed me in from one of my trips to the laundry room in the garage and tried to help me with sorting through the last 5 months of paperwork that I really didn’t sort, just threw it in the filing drawer.  He sat on envelopes for a while and watched me sort out what needed to be shredded vs. what needed to be saved.  He even tried sitting in my lap for a bit to help me read the slips of papers to be sorted – medical, medical specific for cancer (it’s getting its own file), insurance, investments, auto maintenance, emergency dental cleaning before chemo – hmmm, should that go in the cancer file or just the plain medical file…; bank statements.  He grew bored with all this adulting stuff and went to go lay on the chaise.

Finally finished all the sorting, put the 2018 files in the file drawer, set my bag of shredding aside and decided it was time to get my laundry from the dryer.  Perfect timing, dryer was almost done.  Brought in my clothes, sorted, folded, hung up and as I was putting my underwear into my underwear drawer I was faced with all those bras still there.  I’ve gone from a DDD/E cup to what Dr. Goldberg tells me will be a C cup.  I wonder if I have any bras in there that I might still be able to use in the future…  No, I don’t know why I even thought that.  There is no way any of those bras will fit me again, not without adding a whole lot of extra padding.  Texted the Darling Daughter to see if maybe any of these bras would fit her.  Nope, the bands are too small.  I went and grabbed a bag from the kitchen, and decided to move all the bras and the matching panties out of the drawer.  I filled the bag.  As I filled that bag with all my pretty bras and matching panties, my utility bras with no matching panties, and watched the space in my drawer grow larger and larger, that stupid dragon unfurled and pushed the tears right back out of my eyes again.

I loved wearing the pretty bras.  Hated shopping for them, and was soooo happy when I found an online place that made pretty bras in my size and the cuts I like so I wouldn’t have to go to a store.  They even had an app that would assess my measurements to insure I was getting the correct sizes.   All gone.  Only the utility underpants left in my drawer.  The everyday underpants that I have been wearing for months now that I could not wear my pretty bras, and my all cotton, long female knit boxer underpants for fair.  And the tears just keep coming, silently slipping down my face, then my breath starts to hitch.  Not this again, I don’t want to fall apart over stupid bras.

But that is just what I did.  As I walked out of our bedroom with my iPad in hand (from texting the Darling Daughter), trying to stop the hitching, trying to stop the ever faster leaking tears, out of his office walks Hubby.  He takes one look at me and says, “Oh honey, what’s wrong?”  He thinks because the iPad is in my hand maybe I’ve received some bad news.  Nope, just me, falling apart over my stupid boobs and now having to rid myself of all my pretty bras that will never fit again.  And I have to figure out all over again what size I am, and what cut of bra will work for me, and the hours of shopping, and I hate shopping, and trying and not liking what I am finding, and, and, and …  he’s holding me and I am sobbing.  I can’t hold it in anymore.  Sobbing, giant air gulping, heart wrenching, snot draining, tears all over him, as he just holds me there in the hallway, holding me while I weep all my energy away, sob all my hurt away, sob all my fear away, sob all my anxiety away.  Sob all my loss away.  Sob over what was and will never be again.  Sob over all I’ve had to endure.  Sob over what I still face.  Sob over that I may never be able to joke with my boss again about how I own him because he has a thing about my boobs.  (I know that is soooo not right in this day and age, but we both know it and we both accepted it, and it was funny and it was always just between us.  It was our joke, and now I don’t think I can share that joke without crying ever again…)  Sob over how I feel so helpless.  Sob over wanting my life back.  Sob over why am I crying, and I should be happy, I kicked cancers ass, but I am still crying.  Sob over why am I crying  over my boobs, so many women have to have a complete mastectomy, I still have my real boobs, they are just different now, but I am still crying.

Hubby just holds me tight, for what feels like forever while I sob all of this out.  He tried to ask me what was wrong, but I couldn’t talk, couldn’t enunciate well enough, couldn’t get the air in or out in a coherent fashion so he could make out what I was trying to say.  He just held me tight, rubbed my back and let me continue to sob until I was empty.  As I started gasping for bigger and bigger gulps of air, he started talking to me again.  Soothing me through coming back from all of that outpouring all over his shirt.  Talking me through breathing normally again – take a deep breath in through the nose, now let it out slowly through your mouth.  I finally was able to tell him so he could understand my words what set me off, and some of the whys of what fed the dragon.  He said all of that can be dealt with in time, one step at a time.  Then he looked at me and said “It was just too much wasn’t it?  Just too much at once and you finally had to just let it out.”  Yeah, it was too much, and yes it overwhelmed me, and it all had to come out.

I’m not generally a big sobbing, gut wrenching, barely catch your breath type of crying person.  Tears running, sniffling, blow my nose a few times and I am good.  A few times that tear leaking out of your eyes, just wouldn’t stop after a few minutes, but no giant sobbing.  The heart wrenching wailing, that overtakes you, pulls everything you have from the furthest reaches of your being and pours it out through your breath, through your snot, through your tears, that has only hit me a few times in my life, yesterday being one of them.  The raw, ragged edge hurts, assaults, indignities, innocence lost, fear, longing, hope, pain, uncertainty, doubt, strength, and love all mixed together comes out in a great rush of energy; whirls through your being like a class 5 tornado, wreaking destruction in its path, clearing corners of your soul you haven’t touched in years, pulling it all out to spew forth into the world.  A giant release of so much energy that you can only cry through it, it takes tears and muscle and heart to release this dragon,  This is what I did all over my hubby yesterday, and he being the solid foundation that he has had to be all these months, stood there and let all that whip around him, buffet him, drip all over him and just held on tight so I could release it all.  He held on through all of it, giving me strength to let it all out.  And when it was over he helped me calm my tempest, helped me reign in my dragon, helped me right all that had been toppled in the torrent.  And calmly let me get back to being me.  A little lighter, a little freer, a little better, a little more centered, a little more me.  Ready to face another week, ready to take on more healing, more change.

I decided to ask Deda about when she started shopping for new bras after her reduction so long ago.  She’d already told me I couldn’t decide if I liked my boobs or not until they were 6 months old, I could use her to help me set my next steps so I would feel like I have a plan.  Told her another Saturday, another melt down, cleaned out the underwear drawer and now have no bras other than the super sports bras to deal with post surgical boobs, etc.  When did she start looking for new bras?   She told me it was 3 months before she started looking.  She wore the post surgical super sports bras 24/7 until then.  She also told me to relax, I need time to heal.  Yeah, there is that chemo brain/no patience thing again.  She asked me if I’m still meditating.  Yes, but maybe not enough…  She said I need more (meditating); calm my brain, which also needs to heal.  She reminded me I had a lot of shit put into my body and it takes a lot longer to get it cleaned out than it did to put it in.  She also told me to get out of the house, get a change of scenery; and grocery shopping and doctor appointments don’t count.  Go to the park, or walk around the block.  Get out, meditate outside of the house.

She’s right.  For 6 months I have been a prisoner to chemo, locked in my house, away from crowds so I wouldn’t get sick. Locked in my mind, locked in my cancer.  My immune system is finally normal again, blood test last week showed my CBC (complete blood count) is all back in normal ranges.  My liver has just a little bit more to go.  Three weeks before my liver enzyme count was still elevated, needs to be 32 or under; it was 57.  Last week it was down to 35.  So close!

And I am so tired of just sitting.  I get up to wash, to dress, so make a cup of tea, refill my tea, to make some food, but other than that, I am sitting.  I stretch, and then I sit.  Hubby worries about the neuropathy.  Permanent damage can happen if I am not careful.  So I sit, to stay off my neuropathy inflicted feet.  I can’t take sitting anymore.  I need to move.  Radiation Therapy is coming and I worry about how tired that will make me.  I’m so done with being tired.  I don’t want to be tired anymore.  And I am worried about radiation, I was so sick when I did the ablation of my thyroid.  The Radiation Oncologist said it was because I am highly susceptible to radiation sickness.  I worry that Radiation Therapy will make me feel sick as well as tired.  I want sunshine on my face, I want to hear the birds, see the flutterbyes, smell the flowers, smell the earth renewing itself.  I see it out my window, I want to feel it.

So this morning I decided I was going to get my really cushy walking shoes, add in the extra gel inserts to help provide more cushion, and I was going to walk up to Starbucks.  I know Hubby pays attention when we are out and how my step changes after a short time of walking, and the more walking I do, the worse it gets.  He calls it “club foot walking” because I start dragging my feet more; it becomes an effort to walk comfortably with the neuropathy.  I would walk up to Starbucks, and drink my coffee there with a croissant, read my book for a bit, allow my feet to recover some before I walked back.  I would walk up our street to PV Drive and then walk up PV Drive to Starbucks, so this way I would only have a downhill walk on the way back.  And of all the routes I could take, this is the least amount of hill to walk.

I told Hubby this was my plan.  He was not happy with me.  I know he was afraid for me, afraid I would overexert myself, overtax my feet, and then need a ride.  He’s working hard on his business to try and set things up so when I start radiation he has stuff pre-setup so the trips to radiology and any follow up doctor appointments will not impinge on his work.  Maybe soon I will feel confident enough with my brain to drive again and this will help reduce how much I have had to depend on him, pull him away from his work.  But he tried to tell me I shouldn’t walk up to Starbucks.  I have a hard time making it through grocery shopping before I start clomping and dragging my feet because of the neuropathy.  I told him I needed to do this for me.  He was upset, angry, frustrated because I would not back down and he just knew I would have to call him to come get me, interrupting his plans on what he was working on before he took a nap, as he got to bed really late, and was up early to feed the cat.  I told him I need to get out of the house, he said go sit in the backyard and read!  I countered with I am tired of sitting, all I do is sit.  I am done with sitting.  He again reminded me of my feet and I again outlined my plan to keep from damaging them.

I changed into one of my sports tanks, added some pants and a workout sweat wicking shirt, put on a hat, grabbed my keys, my e-reader, my phone and away I went, slowly trudging my way up the hill of our street and then the hill up to Starbucks.  Traffic was fairly heavy, not one break in cars as I slowly made my way up to Starbucks.  Usually there is a quiet lull between groups of cars when I can listen to the birds, hear them in the bushes that grow on the sides of the houses as I walk by, hear the squirrels chitter up in the branches of the trees.  But not on my walk up to Starbucks today.  I did notice there were a lot of pine cones littering the path I took.  Lots of spring growth on plants, shrubs and trees.

My hats don’t fit very well anymore.  Guess hair does make a difference.  But I have ears that keep them from falling all the way down.  Made it to Starbucks, a little steamy, nose a little drippy because it still does that when I move more than a little bit.  I ordered my Venti, Quad, Non-Fat Latte with 1 Splenda, a butter croissant and a plain yogurt.  Texted Hubby that I had made it to Starbucks safe and sound.

I sat off to the side, near the barista counter where the espresso and blended drinks are served, away from the main sitting area.  Set myself up on a high top, took off my hat, wiped the “glow” from my face, and started with my yogurt before digging into the croissant that I love to dip into my latte before I take a bite.  I felt someone watching me, so I glanced up.  There was a couple at another high top to my left and a slight angle behind me.  I caught them staring.  I smiled, they flustered and tried to hide they had been staring.  Slightly thereafter I had that same feeling again.  Sure enough, there was another couple in the main sitting area staring.  Again, I look up and smile at them, yet another couple flustered and attempting to hide they had been staring.  This continued for at least 15 minutes while I sat there drinking my latte, eating my croissant and perusing Facebook. I finally picked up my trash and my belongings, threw the trash away and went outside.

I got tired of the being watched feeling and embarrassing the two couples who couldn’t keep their eyes off me. It’s the new hair, I know. It’s so soft and alluring. Everyone just wants to touch it I am sure! 😀   I wanted to just say out loud to both couples, it’s just what recovering from chemo looks like, it’s not contagious, and you can ask. Despite what our parents taught us, it is OK to ask someone their story. But be nice about it, not bullish or super nosy. If the person doesn’t want to talk, accept that and walk away. This way your curiosity may be answered and the person you are curious about doesn’t feel like a freak show. I’d much rather have someone ask me, “Did you shave your head to honor someone?” to start the conversation than just have them stare at me, making me feel uncomfortable in a public situation, and in turn not want to make them feel uncomfortable in a public situation by saying something. If we had a conversation I might even invite you to rub the downy softness that is my hair right now if you wanted too. If the person asking was showing interest in what they can do to help those of us dealing with cancer, I might point them in so many directions, places they could volunteer, donate, anything. Anything but have an uncomfortable public experience, for everyone involved.

After I waited a bit longer outside and read my book, sipped my coffee, I decided my feet had enough rest and could make the trip home. This time the traffic pattern on PV was more what I used to experience – nice lulls in groups of cars so I can hear the birds, hear the squirrels and even hear the almost silent scurry of lizards sunning themselves before I rudely come along and wake them. Yes, I am still the lizard queen it seems. Seven adorable little lizards made themselves known to me on my trip home. Their friends all scattered to hide, but these brave little souls stayed out of hiding and watched me as I passed, listened to my  salutations to them and wishes for them to have a wonderful soak in the sun.

I had several butterflies wing by, one yellow, one monarch and a bluish white one I’ve not seen before. I heard the birds calling and several squirrels chittering away in the distance. It was a pleasant walk home. As I neared a neighbor’s house on our street, M was out in his garage and greeted me, so I stopped and we chatted for a while. Our kids grew up together and all remain friends. His oldest son is getting married at the end of this month and I am looking forward to the wedding. His mother (in-law) was also going through a cancer battle. Hers was colon cancer. She had surgery and then chemo. She stopped her chemo two treatments shy of the original plan as well. She just couldn’t take feeling so sick anymore. She is doing very well now. I shared with M that my pathology report came back glowing with positive news. He was so happy for me, and assured me his wife D would be ecstatic as well. Hubby texted while were standing there talking, asking me to let him know when I was heading home. M and I said our farewells and I finished the last few hundred feet home.

I am exhausted from my walk, but glad I did it. Could hardly wait to get out of my shoes and socks and slip on my slippers. They do not set off my neuropathy as much as regular shoes and socks. I think it’s the amount of compression around my foot that causes some of the discomfort.

No kids for dinner tonight. The Middle Son was asked at the last minute to work a double because so many others for the night shift at the restaurant called off; and Darling Daughter is exhausted from work, and the last week with kids off for spring break.

We will all celebrate Hubby’s birthday next weekend.

Life is soaking up the nature around us