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.

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...