The Call...

Lou and I celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary this weekend.  It was one of the nicest weekends we spent together in a while.  The weather was beautiful, there was a calmness in the air around us that had been missing for so long.  It felt strange but good.  Peaceful even.  I felt we were reconnecting with each other.  We were also celebrating my 7 years as a cancer survivor that same day.  

For some reason, I had my cell phone turned off all day yesterday.  I don't think I even realized it until 8pm when I went to check it.  So when I turned it on I saw there was a new voicemail.  Thinking it must have been my mom (who is the only one usually calling me on a sunday)  I quickly checked it.  When I heard her voice I nearly dropped the phone.  It was my dad's wife sounding uncomfortable and a little crazy asking me to call her at work in the morning.  Saying that my dad was getting "bad"  wondering what the hell that meant other than "not good".  There were specific instructions to not call the house, just call on her cell.  She and I hadn't spoken in months, not since my dad was in the hospital last spring for pancreatic cancer surgery.  And prior to that we hadn't spoken in nearly 5 years.  So here she was and I knew it couldn't be good.  I tried not to worry but my anxiety had already been heightened by the fact that my dad hadn't responded to 2 emails I had written in the past 2 weeks.  And now her.

Lou asked me if I was going to call and I said I wanted to wait till the morning as specifically instructed.  And I wanted to just try and soak in the rest of our wonderful weekend.

This morning Lou got up at his usual 4:30am for work.  When he left at 5  I for some reason decided to get up which  NEVER happens!  I wondered why.  Already feeling uneasy for my upcoming phone call I tried to keep myself busy.  There I was sitting on the couch with my laptop burning a hole in thighs when I heard the phone ring at 6:30.  My heart sank into the pit of my stomach.  I ran to the phone, tripping over my pug on the way, grabbed it and heard her voice on the other end.  

"I know you don't want to talk to me, but I left the message yesterday because he had been getting bad.  Not talking so much, and I just wanted to let u know but now I am waiting for the ambulance to come.  He was sitting in his chair and just collapsed onto the floor." she said as her voice was shaking. 

I almost couldn't form words at that moment.  

"Ok, just call me when you know something."  was all I could think of to say.

As I heard the hang up click on her end I walked out to my living room and began pacing, shaking, and repeating "Shit" out loud to myself until I had lost count.  I was shaking my hands as if to bring new life to them.  My pug was staring at me looking as if he was watching a tennis match on tv as I paced back and forth in front of him.  

I heard the phone ring not 5 minutes later and I knew he was gone.  I didn't want to pick up.  I didn't want to know.  I didn't want my dad to be dead.  

"Hello"  I said, this time my voice was shaking.

"He died."  she said through her tears. 

Apparently he died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.  Its hard for me to recall what happened after that but I remember telling her I was sorry and her getting snippy that I had.  We were both crying and I said "I can't see him anymore.."  not even knowing why the hell that came out of my mouth.  She said she had to go get my half sister Marie, who is a freshman in highschool, and tell her since she just left for school before it all went down the drain. 

As I hung up the phone I didn't know what to do.  All I could do was cry.  Cry for the loss of him but also for the loss of what could never be.  For the loss of what I longed for my whole life...a father who was not a drunk when I was a child, a father who I got along with, and who made me feel loved.

As I sobbed, shook, and felt weak I thought about the time we spent together on his birthday in April.  And how all the things we said were so important.  I thought about how when I said goodbye to him that day I wondered if it was goodbye forever.  Part of me knew it was.

It was the call I dreaded for the past year.  The one I never wanted to answer.  The one I would never be ready for...

 

Say

Just the other day I was listening to the radio driving along in my car and the song "Say What You Need to Say"  by Jon Mayer came on.  Now I am not a Jon Mayer fan but this song speaks to me.  Although I haven't yet seen the movie "Bucket List"  I know what the premise is and this song is so very fitting.  

As I listened to the words I practically knew by heart I couldn't help but tear up.  I am pretty weepy these days.  Not sure if that is a good or bad thing.  Some believe that tears show our emotion and are better to get out than to stuff in.  I spent most of my life stuffing them in which I do believe in part had a huge effect on my health (that is a topic for another blog).  

With each word the tears streamed down my cheeks as I pulled up to a stop light hoping that they wouldn't cloud my vision.  I thought about what I didn't have the chance to say to Paul.  I didn't get to say "I love you"  before he left that day.  Had I known that it was the last time I would see him it would have been a no brainer.  But I didn't.  What we did say was stupid shit about who would take out the garbage.  I lived for so many years after he died with anger at myself that I didn't say what I wish I had. That I didn't say what I wanted.  I didn't say what was most important.

Now that I am faced with loss yet again I wonder if I have said all I need to say.  This time with my dad.  Pancreatic cancer is taking away his time here and although we don't know how much time is left I hope I have said what is important.  The last time I saw him was on April 4th for his 60th birthday.  I hesitated going and I hate admitting that to anyone, mostly myself.  I have struggled so much and spent many years on the couch to deal with our relationship or lack there of.  Having an alcoholic for a father was not in the plan but we don't get to choose.  I have come to realize though through his illness, through my loss, and my own bout with cancer that which is most important.  So I went for that birthday visit.  It was difficult, sad, disturbing but I was able to say what I needed to say and so did he.  I don't think either of us had planned it that way but I for one am glad for that at least.  Things that  we never said, things we never did.  

He said   "Next time around I will be a better dad"  

I said   "You did the best you could"

He said   "No I didn't, I did what was best for me"

I don't really remember what happened directly after that.  All I remember was thinking how much I will miss him.  At that moment all the crap between us didn't matter.  What did matter was making amends.  (so 12 step of me to say.  Too much al-anon)

I don't remember who hugged first, I think it was me. 

He said  "I love my little girl"

I said  "I love you too"

As I hugged him, it felt foreign and comforting at the same time.  A place it took us my whole life to get to I thought to myself as the tears began again, tears I could barely stop.  I saw them in his eyes too, a place they never were....at least not in front of me.

I hate that these days I am waiting for "the call".  The one I will get from his wife.  The one I will never be ready to answer.  The one I dread.  But at least I know that we said it all.....and that will be of some comfort to me.

Sex and the City Countdown!!

I can't even tell you how freakin excited I am about seeing this movie!  I have watched the preview on youtube so many times I could probably recite the dialogue by now!  I watch the reruns constantly every nite whatever channel I find them on.  I am totally addicted...its true!  

Now I don't know about you but I was so happy with how they ended the series.  I was literally jumping up and down when Carrie and Big finally ended up together.  They were always so meant for each other.  I can't help but wonder though what is in store for them in the movie?  Hmmmm....

In the preview it looks as though Carrie gets dumped and they never make it to the alter.  Or maybe it is one of those "dream sequences" that I keep hearing about? 

 Miranda and Steve seem as though they may be dealing with infidelity from the scene they showed.  I think they make a great couple. 

 And our sexed up friend Samantha seems to have a wandering eye?  How can that be with all she went through with that hottie of hers...Smith?  Being a breast cancer survivor myself I totally related to that storyline with Samantha's breast cancer diagnosis.  And I give serious kudos to the writers for such an accurate, brilliant, and irreverant depiction of her experience. My fav scene is when Smith comes home in the middle of the night after he had sent Samantha the flowers with that sweet note "I can't wait for spring"  and wakes her up to tell her he loves her.  I get goose bumps even now when I watch that scene!

It is probably no secret that the title of my breast cancer memoir was inspired by SATC!

If you haven't already hop on over to YouTube and watch this preview.  Let me know what you guys think!  

Hot Flashes...Not Just For Grandma Anymore

I had my first hot flash at 32. Full on menopause courtesy of chemo. I was feeling a hell of a lot older than I was. I was feeling like a dried up old lady! Thanks to cancer treatments my ovaries went on strike. For about a year. Then Flo was back.

I have to admit what I didn't miss was the mind numbing cramps, the runs, and lets not forget how many undies I would mess up. Month after month since like the age of 12. But the hot flashes! The hot flashes SUCK! And now they are back with a vengence baby. After the past few years of pretty regular cycles.

Now this is something that I can't discuss with my friends since they still get cramps to bitch
about. They don't know what it is like to be in your thirties and have a plumeting sex drive, and
be hot flashing and sweating all the time. My husband knows all too well how often I get them. The nite sweats have me trading in spooning for furiously fanning myself. Really romantic huh?!

I have lost count of how many I get each day. And as the summer approaches the warmer weather triggers them. I have found that a paper plate makes quite a good fan. All of a sudden the heat will start in my chest and travel up to my neck and face like I am on fire. I am instantly dripping wet not to mention the pounding heart. I think that is my fave part.

It is hard to feel girly when you are sweating like a man and looking like you just ran 10 miles after not doing a dam thing.

Can any of you youngins out there relate? Did cancer throw you hormones into an uproar. Have you experienced chemopause?

Anyone have any good tips for controlling these buggers?!

Bra Zero

I remember when bra shopping was fun. I remember when it made me feel sexy. I remember when it became a chore.

That happened when I lost my boob. And although they built me a brand spankin new one I was now lopsided. Yeah, I know they say that all women have one boob smaller/larger than the other but still. Like it wasn’t already hard enough to be a girl.

It seemed as though once I lost my boob Victoria’s Secret catalogs showed up everywhere I turned. That those dam bra commercials were on some crazy rotation on every channel I surfed through. Don’t even get me started on shopping in that store or any for that matter. I swear I must have tried on every bra known to man. Every brand, every size, every type. One thing I have realized… I live in an underwire world. All I wanted was a bra without wire. I had no clue it would be near impossible. And if I did in fact hit the bra lotto happening to stumble upon one you could be sure it wasn’t a pretty, girly, one.

Now, back in the day I was a big fan of underwire. It was all I wore. I found it pretty comfortable until I tried to shove a newly reconstructed boob into one. My plastic surgeon practically dared me to try it. I laughed wondering “how hard could it be?” I had done it before right? Well, I was in a for a rude awakening. Initially I had settled into the sporty type, which I must admit were sooo comfortable but quite unflattering. I found I had traded the lopsidedness for flatchested and bound. So I lived in those for quite a while as I became increasingly pissed off at my inability to find myself a nice girly bra. Each time I looked in the mirror at my scars, and a newly built headlight that was forever “on” I wondered why it had to be so dam hard to find something to at least make me look nice from the outside….something to hide all that and still make me feel pretty. Sexy even.

As I stroll through VS now I look around at all these tweens doing their own bra shopping wondering how could it be possible that at such a young age it warrants sexy lacy underwire bra’s? You know…the ones I can no longer wear in my 30’s. I remember being that age having my mom pretty much pick those out for me, not that there was much of a selection back then where we shopped. Jealous much?! Not only was I feeling unattractive and ugly, I was feeling dam old!

Not to worry….all this ranting will end on a good note. Where I was heading with all this is that I FINALLY found a one! And it fit all my requirements with a bonus. No wire, with padding (to cover the headlight that never shuts off) and drumroll please……LACE!! I wanted to cry I was so happy. Thank You Calvin Klein!

But you know what happens next right? It is sure to be discontinued! LOL

Something New to Check Out!

Karen Lynch a two time breast cancer survivor and freelance writer has started a new blog called The Pink Ribbon Review It is a must see for those of you who have been touched by breast cancer or are a fellow survivor like me. It is intended to raise awareness and is full of great info to help you along the journey.

So be sure to stop by and check out what Karen has to say! I can assure you it will be worth the cyber trip!

Be on the lookout for my story over at Pink Ribbon Review!

Stupid Cancer Fund

One cause I am very passionate about is support for young adult cancer suvivors. You know…the step children of cancer. The ones that are always forgotten about. And it is killing them! Literally!

So if you want to support a great organization that as the sign says… takes care of its own, hop on over to this link and donate to The Stupid Cancer Fund and support i[2]y!!

Don’t forget to send an email blast to all your friends and spread the word like an untreated cancer!