and then it was 6

October 26, 2011

i knew the day was coming – i watched it coming on my calendar for weeks.  the pink-washed october leads into my birthday and then rolls over and over to the date i was diagnosed with breast cancer.  do you think it is better 6 years later?  yes.  and no.  and yes.  lessons learned; pounds gained and lost and sometimes gained again; a daughter moving from a child to a high-school teenager; a marriage pushed past 20 years; some nights sleepless; no less looking over my shoulder but perhaps with more perspective … or not.  facing complicated choices about going on new and potent meds that statistically help with holding down recurrence rates but may or may not help me even a tiny bit but probably will not contribute to a positive quality of life that i currently have achieved.  do i sacrifice my here and now for the what if?  or do i jump off a no-meds-for-you cliff and hope that the mean and miserable rating on my oncotype test way back when doesn’t come back to haunt me – or worse, screw me over royally.  i watch my parents struggle with aging; my sister grab life by the cojones even tho she struggles daily with blood sugars from a life-time of diabetes; my friends  cope with …well, you know…all those things and thoughts and unexpected miseries  – some even starting down this path for themselves and i try to find some way to help them through without falling down an emotional rabbit hole myself. 

i spent much of today singing.  and i thought…not bad missy.  tomorrow it’s 6 and a day.

here was last year: 


this is 54. (a partial list)

October 13, 2011

october 14th 1957 + 54 years = october 14th 2011

i’m alive.

i’m happy to be alive.

some days i’m 35 pounds lighter than i was 4 1/2 years ago and some days i’m 30 pounds lighter than i was 4 1/2 years ago.

i really notice those 5 pounds now.

i am the aging mother of an amazing high school jr.  she surprises me (in a good way) every single day even as she rolls her eyes at me.  i just can’t say how much love grows in my heart for this witty, caustic, quirky kid i helped bring into the world.

i am married over 20 years which is longer than i lived with my parents.  that says a lot about my husband.

i love my house and hate my neighborhood.

i have worked very hard to once again have real and meaningful friendships in my life and think i’m succeeding – of course, it’s all to my benefit.  a few are over 15-years-of-emailing dear friends whom i’ve never met in real life but whom i hold as my closest confidents.

when i look in a mirror i think my hair looks good.  when i look at a photo of myself, i think my hair looks like i survived cancer.

i remind myself that i’ve put over 5 years of surviving cancer behind myself on a daily basis. 

i need more sleep. 

i often can’t stay asleep.

i’m doubly removed of estrogren (age and medications) and it’s really not for the better as far as my femininity or my ability to concentrate on reading a book is concerned. 

i still try on clothes that i think look fabulous but quickly realize that i could have worn them 25 years ago. 

i can sing better than 25 years ago.  now to find out if that means anything when you’re aging and zaftig.

i finally left organized religion behind and concentrate on being a good person in this world. 

i think about food and cooking and travel all the time.

i still love new york city but there’s a teeny part that can imagine retiring in victoria, b.c.   i can imagine retiring.  bliss.

without lists, i would not survive. 

i’m alive.

i’m happy to be alive.

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