The day can only get better from here!

You know how some mornings you wake up and it's just a shitty day? You have to deal with crap from almost the very moment you crawl out of bed? When things just stink?

Well that's how my day started.

Ginger got into the garbage yesterday. Ginger apparently had a very rough night. There was puppy poop (and we ain't talkin' any solids here) from one end of the laundry room to the other, the walls, the fridge, the door.

OH. MY. GOD.

The mess was one thing. The smell... WOW. Would you know the air conditioning intake is in the laundry room? The whole house stank. Lenny and I have scrubbed the floor in that room FIVE times so far today. I was lucky enough to pull the first two cleaning shifts (UGH) while he washed the dog.

So by now my sense of smell is deadened. The windows and back door are all open and the fans all on. It's a beautiful morning. The day ahead looks sunny and bright.

By mutual agreement, we skipped breakfast.

Beautiful Fighter

There were two songs that empowered me during my fight with cancer. Ironically they're both on the same album and on the surface have nothing to do with being ill.

The first song is Fighter by Christina Aguilera

Although the song is actually directed at a man, I found some of the words really fit what I was going through at the time…

"''cause if it wasn't for all that you tried to do,
I wouldn't know just how capable I am to pull through
So I wanna say thank you 'cause it
Makes me that much stronger
makes me work a little bit harder
it makes me that much wiser
so thanks for making me a fighter
made me learn a little bit faster
made my skin a little bit thicker
makes me that much smarter

so thanks for making me a fighter"

and at the end of the song…

"but in the end you'll see
YOU-WON'T-STOP-ME
I am a fighter and I I ain't gonna stop

There is no turning back
I've had enough"

I think that sums up one way I handled things. It did make me stronger.

One of my chemo buddies, Nancy, once said that you never have time to feel sorry for yourself when you have cancer, because you're always too busy being strong for everyone else. She certainly had a point.

The only time I really had alone to think was in my car. I drive an hour each way to work and back every day.

One of the ways I was able to gauge how I was holding up mentally was how far into the song "Beautiful", by Christina Aguilera I could get.

"Everyday is so wonderful, then suddenly, it's hard to breathe" - really really fitting…

I lost all of my hair during chemo and refused to wear a wig. I wore a nice variety of hats instead… I wasn't going to fool anyone with a wig, not to mention that they're hot, so really why bother?

Well let me tell you, it's not easy being an overweight bald woman. Unfortunately I followed up a pregnancy with chemo and large doses of steroids (that's my story, and I'm sticking to it!). So, if I could manage to sing along with "Beautiful" without disolving in a puddle of tears, I knew I was doing ok.

As time went by, I was able to sing the song and getting to the part of "We are beautiful" made me appreciate that I certainly wasn't the only woman going through this and that I am now part of a Sisterhood of strong, capable fighters. I'm proud of that.

I learned a lot on my journey and like I said, I met the nicest people along the way.

I met the nicest people

I routinely tell people that I feel I had the best possible experience with breast cancer that one could ever hope to have. Typically their head cocks slightly to the side and they ask me why I feel that way. Doctors always seem to be the most curious. I tell them about my story, and always end by telling them that really the biggest thing I took away from my experience was that I met the nicest people, and really I did. If anyone could be bubbly or effervescent about breast cancer, of all things, it would be me. It's almost embarrassing.

However, I do pray quite often that I don't have to do it again. :)

Oh, the love

I recently learned that appearantly every day Angie goes into her room at her Grandparent's house and opens up her photo album. She flips through the pages of pictures of her to the page with a picture of me on it and appearantly proceeds to talk to me periodically throughout the day. This picture to be exact.

Doesn't that just break your heart?

Irony and Religion

Ever notice how irony and religion seem to meet from time to time? Not necessarily in a negative way. Consider the times you've been in church, struggling with a problem, and the pastor starts talking about that very subject. Irony!

Well, how ironic is it that I've received two very different invitations this week? The first came from Wen' who invited me to a Autumn Equinox Celebration. Wen' is a self-proclaimed eclectic Pagan and she's throwing together a pot-luck lunch this Sunday with some crafting and games. Good, clean Pagan fun. Wen' is very Mother Earthy, which is cool.

My second invitation is to join Elizabeth and her family next Sunday for a Children's Festival at her church. This also sounds like a lot of fun, and an opportunity for Angie to meet some other kids and for me to meet Elizabeth's family, especially her Mom. Now, I know Elizabeth's Mom has had 11 children of her own, but I wonder if she'd like to adopt a 12th? Twelve is a nice, even number, right? I'm pretty low maintenance. Elizabeth speaks so highly of her Mom, and tells such wonderful, loving stories about her, that I think she makes up a good 33% of the envy I've mentioned about Elizabeth's family and faith. I know that's how I want my daughter to feel and talk about me when she's grown up. Makes me sad about my relationship with my own mother, I know I don't want that for Angie and I. Anyway, I'm looking forward to it.