Documenting the Cancer-ness of it All

Well hellllooooooo, insomnia! I wondered when you were going to show up....

When I met with Dr. O'Neill last week to finalize all the pre-surgery plans, she happened to ask how I was sleeping and whether I needed a prescription for anything to help. I told her I was fine and went on my merry way.

I'm now wondering if I'm going to get any rest in the next couple of days at all. I'm not tossing and turning trying to fall asleep - heck, last night I fell asleep on the floor of Greta's bedroom while holding her hand through the crib and slept for over an hour there - but I was definitely awake at least 4 or 5 times last night and now I'm up in the quiet house a good couple of hours before anyone else will start to stir.

Of course, part of that is the fact that Fin was having an octopus night. I actually woke up around 3am because his legs were literally across my neck. So I rearranged him and went to the bathroom, which seemed to signal to Molly that it was time to sit next to me for 20 minutes meowing loudly and pushing her head into my hand until I paid attention to her. And by then the brain was whirring with all the things I have to remember to do in the next three days until I eventually dozed off again.

That scenario repeated itself a few times. I wondered if I should just get up and run, but at 4:30, all I wanted was more sleep. Now at 6:30, I'm wishing I'd gotten a few miles in to try to help quiet the chatter in my head.

I need to call the insurance company to make sure we're not completely shocked when we learn what is or isn't covered for this adventure. I need to follow up with a few survivors who have been so kind to share their stories and experiences with me - I have some questions that they have unique experiences to help answer. I need to make sure I've tied up or passed on any loose ends for projects at work before I'm away from things for a couple of weeks. I need to call my grandparents before Friday. I need to make sure the kids are ready to start school again next Monday. I need to make sure the kids know mommy didn't get sick because of anything they did and they're not being punished when mommy can't play with them, pick them up or even hug them. I need to iron something to wear to work today. And the house is an absolute mess again - already. Who knew two kids and two adults could make a home look like a frat house in under two days? We're impressive....

But I did get to do something really cool last night. My amazing friend Michele Stange is an incredible photographer (www.michelestange.com - you will likely recognize a few people in her galleries) and she had us over to her house to take some family photos before I lose my boobs and hair. We all got to be silly and play for a bit while she captured the four of us together, then my Dave and her David took my 2 and 4 yr old to play upstairs with her 2 and 5 yr old and she and I got to chronicle the start of the stupid cancer journey.

We got to chat and catch up for a bit, which was much needed, and we got to say goodbye to the bad boobies with some pictures. Obviously, I probably won't share the final topless ones with everyone, but I know there will be some great ones to share that show the body and spirit which which I am starting this process.

I know it's just a body, but it's one I was finally starting to be really proud of again. I mean, I'm incredibly proud of all this body has DONE in the past 35 years - mostly cooking my two incredible babies and feeding them for so long and helping them grow into the strong, smart, healthy little people they are - but also the fact that I made it through a crazy horrible c-section that had a miserable recovery and then managed to keep the next baby in to cook long enough despite her many and varied attempts to escape. And that she came out drug-free. And the fact that 2 months ago I wasn't a runner at all and last week I just up and ran 5 miles one morning BECAUSE I CAN.

I'm damn proud of all this body can DO. But I was also finally, finally starting to be proud of how it looked again. I carried extra baby weight around for years so I could keep nursing my babies until they were ready to wean. But in the past 7 months or so - since Greta weaned and finally started sleeping through the night (yeah, that took 26 months...) I was able to start exercising again. And a couple of months ago I realized I can wear the bikini I wore on my honeymoon to Hawaii over 6 years ago. And it actually looks good! And the little sundresses and skirts I avoided for years have gotten back into my wardrobe rotation. And my hair had finally stopped looking like I was growing it out and just looked like good hair. And I felt pretty and feminine again instead of just tired, haggard, sleep-deprived mom-like.

And now it's all going to change again and I have so little control over this part.

Everyone keeps asking me how I'm doing. And I say I'm fine, good even. Because I really am. I've had this damned lump in me for so long, I'm just glad to have a plan to get rid of it.

But honestly, every time someone asks me how I'm doing, I can't help but think to myself, "I'm great now, but I have NO idea how I'm going to handle waking up Friday afternoon to be in a body I don't recognize."

I know I WILL handle it, of course. I'm tough and stubborn and it's just a body. But it's mine and I know it and actually even like it right now - which is kind of a big deal for me to admit, even to myself. And I know I will come to know and probably even like the new body eventually. But the months and month of uncertainty and change and flux are looming ahead of me and weirding me out quite a bit.

I'm so glad Michele was able to take pictures last night. She will be helping me chronicle this whole process - the scars, the bald, the recovery, the healing. I will likely never do anything with the photos other than have them on my computer to look at myself, but I really think it will help me to know afterwards what the process looked like from the outside.

Because from in here, it keeps me awake at night.

<3
-B-