Thursday, October 28, 2010
My Friend Music
Lately, lying or living in fear, I have forgotten who I am and what I love to do. Today, it has come back to me alittle. When I took my first aerobic walk in so long I was rejuvinated. As I stretched out my tight muscles it came to me. I was missing my friend music. I jumped up, plugged in the head phones, and it poured into my soul like fuel. Tried to lay down for a rest and found myself on my feet dancing. Music, my friend has never dropped me nor failed to be here for me. It feeds my body, mind and spirit. It lead to an exceptional variety of dance. I was club dancing which is fast and furious. Then, I was soul dancing which is smoothly singable and ballet dancing motivating my mind, all feed my soul from the music. My friend music reminded me that I love to write while I listen. So, here I am alot more myself after writing this blog. Its called propricreative writing I learned years ago. Inspirational, I thrive on it.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Grandmother Philamena Maselli
There was a day I would think of breast cancer and see my Grandmother. Philamena Maselli had breast cancer and when it traveled to here lung she was 54. I was a child who adored her grandmother. She did not want us to see her suffering. My mother and father would fill us in on her health and until her dealth we 4 grandchildren were forbidden to see her suffering. It felt cruel. I wanted to hold Grandma Fannies hand and have not ever stopped.
Today. I see breast cancer through new eyes. I suffer and I now know that my grandmother was so wise. Suffering should be done privately away from children. Breast Cancer is different. I saw the $2 million Victoria Secret bra today and I am still weeping. I am suffering. I have been a warrior, yet, the war haunts me still. I am falling apart again. I do not want my children to see my suffering. And, I understand my Grandmother Philamena Maselli for after the cancer is gone the war is not over.
Today. I see breast cancer through new eyes. I suffer and I now know that my grandmother was so wise. Suffering should be done privately away from children. Breast Cancer is different. I saw the $2 million Victoria Secret bra today and I am still weeping. I am suffering. I have been a warrior, yet, the war haunts me still. I am falling apart again. I do not want my children to see my suffering. And, I understand my Grandmother Philamena Maselli for after the cancer is gone the war is not over.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
At times...
At this time feeling compelled to succeed while fluently understanding cancer is gone being reconstructed brings forward once again I have been to war. brb going to walk/sprint-bike-swim for a cause...MY FUN:)
Thursday, August 26, 2010
The Hurricane
Writer's block has not been an issue with me given the fact I have so many issue's it feels on purpose that words may flow freely in somewhat of an entertaining fashion for the reader. Clearly this is not Emily Post nor do I have any expectation of my challenging life to become easier. If, one were to start from my beginning things came together beautifully while growing up and through high school merging into college went even spectacular until I blossomed into a make-up artist as well as a cosmetologist. Emerging in an industry that requires one to be "ON" all the time lines became blurred and it was difficult to remain "on purpose". Straying from Ohio into Florida then onto California it has become crystal clear that I have been blessed with a talent. Continually attracting wonderful new business in a climate economically challenged for many industries to keep their doors open. I must conclude by telling all parts of my professional life far exceeded those of my piers yet my personal life was a horrible hurricane doing irreparable damage and along came innocent children. My grand talent has become to hurricane through lives and leave until today taking full responsibility for my actions.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Ice Cream in my expresso
A favorite artist of mine sang a song with the lyrics "Clouds in my coffee". Now, understand expresso has been the key element in waking me up. Interesting enough to jot down today, I put ice cream in my expresso. At first, the ice cream looked like stair steps and it melted into a smooth layer of cream. As I watched the transformation I began to hum Carly Simon's incredible song. And then, it was clear to me the analogy I was seeing. It has not been clear to me the meaning of "clouds in my coffee". Yet, the expresso became crystal clear. "Ice cream in my expresso" feels like a parallel or the pattern which has been scripted for me. The hilarious part is that I had run out of milk days ago and had finally replaced it. In need of my expresso, as usual, I went right for the ice cream, my back up creamer, and my cloud of choice.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
I was here
In making a mistake, I realize the proper coarse of action must be to figure out where I was. Coaching my daughter'd softball team has been giving me a sense of purpose, I was there. Began writing down thoughts I have in hopes to learning how to write short stories. I do realize, at this moment, it took a long time to get started and I have long way to go. And, I was here. With the cancer, trying to accept where I was. Trying to survive while smiling to everyone as if I where actually alive and happy. Now, its easy to remember I was here because of my precious children. Life revolves around them with such joy, I was here.
The Lesson
Remarkable it seems. I am lonely and not alone. Or, just not quite used to the break up nor sharing the custody routine. Lonely that I do not have a hand to hold or anyone to kiss. Someone to hang out with and share my life. A lesson, being lonely, I just do not know what it is.
Hope
At one point or another in our lives we take time to analyze where we are in this world. Who we wanted to be by 40 and what we have become at 40. Often, we have mounted the horse with all the heeves and hoes to rise up on her back. Suddenly our horse begins to cantor and we put our stirrups 2' back from our toes, get those heals down, and grab onto the reins. A pivotal moment, we have all done this, could have been riding a bike. We sit in our seat while gazing and it is then we discover that it is time to become who you want to be.
Isn't it Ironic??
Making it through surgery seemed like a decade ago, a radical double mastectomy. No one can prepare a human being for " you have breast cancer". Miraculously, as a patient, you go from: in for a routine mammogram one day to the call from your general practitioner to a breast cancer surgeon then MRI. No thinking involved you are scheduled for another foreign procedure, an out patient biopsy. My mind starts racing, "not now! I just recently divorced", "who will love me through this?", or "no one will hold me and I am alone." Fortunately, I had the kids and my mother around when I got the call. The rest has literally been what I had never known, a blur.
Being diagnosed in November, Thanksgiving and Christmas were not what I had planned. Everything falling apart, I am in so much pain, some emotional and some physical. And, it began to feel like cancer. Interesting I have found, it is ironic, some life situations feel like cancer.
Truly, I believe this is true because I live it. Maybe the reason I made it through chemotherapy like I was taking Advil is because a part of my life is worse than cancer. Currently undergoing radiation until July, 5 days a week, I stand by these words "Isn't it ironic". How I have been fighting through emotional cancer. And, just a novice at the physical breast and lymph cancers. In my world, I will take breast cancer over emotional cancer, all day long.
Eyelashes and Eyebrows
Losing my hair was not a big deal and felt like getting a new haircut. Having lost my eyelashes and eyebrows today, 2 weeks into radiation, it feels like my father shaved my head. Certainly having no idea what an impact this would have on my confidence. Lost my hair during chemo, the second session and felt unexpectedly beautiful, most of the time. Today, unfortunately, I want to hide. Now, I want to learn how all the other cancer victims make it months without their eyelashes and eyebrows. My wig made me feel like a fraud. I love hats, especially, the ones family and friends gave me before chemotherapy. Plus, I picked out a few spring hats which are amazing. And, do love and wear them all the time. What seems strange is that all I want are my eyelashes and eyebrows. Cancer is a monster I try to void out of my mind. Definitely too much information comes along with the monster. Begins with a mammogram or breast cancer detection screening...
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