Dear Cancer, F*** You. Sincerely, Me (And Everybody else)

I hate cancer.
No.  I F***ING HATE cancer.
Yeah.  That's much more like it.

Why all the ire?
Cancer sucks.  Great big donkey balls.
I have seen too many people I love, and just too many people in general have cancer.
I have an Aunt who just had a total double mastectomy.
My dad had skin cancer.
My grandfather did as well.
My great grandmother died of cancer at the age of 92.  It wasn't her age, but the cancer that finally did her in.
My mom's family is riddled with cancer.
My mom is a breast cancer survivor, as I have written about before.

I'm just hitting the tip of the iceberg, too, if I were to really delve into all the people I know that cancer has touched with its long, ugly, gnarly, blackened fingers.
Right now, I have a friend who is about to start chemotherapy for breast cancer.  She is a wonderful person.
She isn't post menopausal.  She isn't even in that age range.   Her body just decided to turn against her.
What are we, as women supposed to do?  I look in the mirror all the time, and note that my chances this becoming my future are very high.  Very.
There really aren't a lot of options if this is likely your future.  You can go the preventative route.
We have another good family friend who did just that.  Her mother, one of my own mother's very best friends in life, had breast cancer.  She passed away at a much younger age than she should have.  So, her daughter decided not to wait for this to be her future.  The Drs suggested a preventative double mastectomy, and she did it.  She wanted to be sure.  Its becoming common to take such steps, too.
I could do genetic testing, find out, and go from there, but the kind of cancer that runs in our family causes more than just breast cancer.  I couldn't lop enough organs off to stop everything that will try to kill me, if I am predisposed.
My friend who just started her fight has two beautiful boys who are close in age to The Big Girls, each one of hers being a year younger than mine.
Now, they have to watch mom go through cancer treatments.
No child should need to watch that.
Moreover, no child should have to go through cancer treatments themselves, but it happens all the time.
Yes, I am filled with anger and questions because of all this.  The big question, though, is what do we do from here? How do we stop this?  So much money is being thrown at a cure, but what about the cause?
Has it always been this bad and we didn't know it, or are we killing ourselves somehow now?
Something needs to be stopped.  Somewhere, we need to recognize what has changed to cause our bodies, our breasts that are meant to sustain life, in to weapons that will take it in an instant.

I'm not sure where the answer to all of this lies, but someone, somewhere, must.  We have to do something.  I love all of the beautiful survivors that I have in my life, but I don't want to add any more people to the list of those touched by cancer.

Have I Told You I HATE Cancer?

In case I haven't mentioned it lately, I hate cancer.  Actually, I f***ing hate cancer.  Really.  I do.
My family has a terrible history of cancer.  On my mom's side, I think that is pretty much all we die from.  Old age must be pissed, because it never gets a chance to be the one to claim us.  Nope. Cancer always manages to get there first.
Both of my parents are cancer surviors.  My dad just finished his rounds of medication to kill all the cancer that they found on his head and in his neck.  My mom is a breast cancer survivor.
Now, we just found out that one of my aunts, on my mom's side, has breast cancer.  I love this aunt.  I even happen to like her, which with that family isn't actually all that common even though I have about 20 aunts and uncles on that side.  This particular aunt already deals with enough.  She has two artifical valves in her heart.  She has a pace maker.  She has it rough.  So, cancer really is an ugly thing to throw in that mix.  I know that chemotherapy can damage your heart, and hers couldn't take that.  Instead of all that, the Dr has advised her to have a mastectomy.  Possibly a double one.
All I can say is that I hate cancer.  I hate it.  I hate what it does to the people I love.  I hate what it does to anyone.
One of my goals in life is to participate in the Breast Cancer Three Day. I will.  I want to do it next year, with My Sister who wants to as well.  It will take time for me to be ready for that, and lots of time to raise the money, but so worth it.  I want to do anything I can to kick cancer's ass long before it even thinks it can get to my girls and I.  No.  I want old age to finally win out, and claim us, and nothing else.

The Only Dental Appointment I'll Ever Love

Before I start this post, let me assure you, I don't hate dentists.  I'm sure they are all fantastic people who provide a very necessary service to all of us, make the world a better place, and all that.
I just hate going to them.
Even if I'm not the one in the chair.
Taking my kids to the dentist is torture for me.  I know how much i hate sitting there, and I hate doing that to my children, even though I know it is better for them on so many levels to go rather than not.  Dental health is important.  Yes.  I know.  Doesn't make the action of going and having people in your mouth suck less for anyone, though.
And it does suck.  Just the thought of having all those tools scrape around your teeth is enough to make me git the shivers.  The thought of those gloved hands in my mouth make me want to gag.  I will stop there.  You get it.  I hate going.
I still do it, though.  I go, get cleanings, and pray, hard, that nothing else is wrong with me so that I don't have to go back until my next cleaning.  I take my children, maybe a little later than some people would, but we go.  The Big One just had her cleaning and exam.  She also had a loose tooth.  The tooth needed to be looked at.  It was attached to a space maintainer that she has had for a while.  So, if the tooth came out, she would have a wire sticking out.  When I talked to her Dentist's office on the phone, they told me that if the tooth was loose, they would probably go ahead an pull it so that they can fix the spacer again.  Great.  If I haven't mentioned it before, The Big One is worse than me when it comes to medical stuff.  She freaks out about everything.  I mean that.  So, the notion that they may be pulling a tooth, didn't sit well.  Not only was it going to be difficult because of her general disposition, but I had to take the other Girls with me to the appointment.  So, she would need to go back by herself.  All around, I was terrified of how it was going to go.
Pleasantly, I was surprised.
We discussed everything ahead of time.  I wanted her to be prepared for what they might do.  I told her they would come get me if they needed me.
When we got to the office, both the The Big Girls were stoked about the game room.  The office is setup to be kid heaven with video games.  Wen it was her turn, she went back, excited about the x-rays they were going to do, as she actually likes that part for some odd reason, and only a little nervous.  About 20 minutes later, they came out and ask me to come back.  Great.  I was ready for the discussion that would go something like "Your daughter has x amount of cavities, we have to pull the tooth, put on a new spacer, give her braces, and all today.  After your insurance kicks in, that will cost you $1,478,534."  Of course, that was all an approximate guess of how I thought it would go.
Instead, she had no cavities.  The tooth that the spacer had been working to protect was coming in.  That was what was making the other tooth loose.  So, they didn't need to pull anything.  Everything was working just like it should.  The only thing they needed to do was seal three teeth that had somehow been missed.  That's it.  Good job, Big One.  Keep on brushing well.  Nothing else.  Awesome.
The sealants can be pricey, though.  Even though I had to tell them four times that we do have insurance, once they got it all straightened out, it was going to cost me $28 for this appointment.  I was giddy.  I am happy to pay $28 for a dental visit.
With all the running back and forth to get our insurance straightened out, I would say that it was still more difficult to seal the teeth, than to figure out how much it was going to cost to do it.  While she may have been mostly fine for the rest of the visit, the teeth sealing was a little tricky.  They had to use something to hold open her mouth, and she didn't like the citric acid flavor of the sealant.  She kept moving, and trying to get away, or just stopped breathing.  It was difficult.  I would guess my child is the reason that pediatric dentists really push sedatives sometimes.  Eventually, the teeth got done, both girls got stickers since even the Little Big One waited patiently, and we were on our way to the check out desk.
The lady holding our chart called me over, and looked at it.  Looked again.  Told me she needed to ask someone a question.  They talked, and then she ask if I had other appointments going on.  Yes.  The Little One is going next week.  No.  That isn't it.  There was more discussion while looking at my file online.
Then she told me I had a credit balance.  At first the other woman she was discussing with said she saw a dollar.  That was cool.  I'll take a dollar when I can get it.  Then, the first lady told me that I had a few credits.  All together, after they took out what I owed for that appointment, I still had $201 left.
I was shocked.  I was in disbelief.  How often do you just find $200??  Better yet, how often do you find it at the dentist?? The lady told me they would cut me a check right away.  Instead, I told her to leave it.  We will be using it very soon.


Really, in hind sight, I should have been pissed that they had held this money for so long.  However, it happens to come at the right time.  I know The Little One is going to need some work, and now I have a fall back to help with that.
While I don't expect to ever get another visit quite like that one, I am super excited to be able to say just once that I actually loved going to the dentist.

Cows Can Feel Safe...er

As I am very upfront about, I am a vegetarian.  I have been for many years.  So many years, that I can't even remember exactly how many anymore, but I'm pretty sure it is over 12.
I am an ovo lacto vegetarian, to be very specific.  That means I eat eggs and dairy.  At least, I used to.
 I think I am going on day 427 with no dairy.  Well, no.  I am on day one, but it feels like it has been years.  Yesterday, at The Littlest One's 4 month check up, the Dr told me to lay off the milk.  Apparently, her poop shouldn't be green foam, and it may be a result of dairy.  It may also be that i produce way too much milk.  Either way, the Dr wants me to try going with out dairy for a week, to see if it makes a difference.  I'm sure it will make some difference.  By the end of the week, I will have lost a ton of weight because that is all I eat.  I eat dairy instead of meat.  It isn't necessarily healthy, but that is how it is.  I try not to eat a ton of soy, because it too is actually unhealthy for very different reasons.  We have a dairy loving family.  Even with my husband, who likes to eat cereal in the mornings, gone, we go through at least 2 gallons of milk a week.  Usually, I'm trying to stretch the second gallon to make it last until my weekly Costco trip for milk.
No more, though.  I have to stop.  I have to find a way to not eat cheese, drink milk, and so one.
ow this is going to happen, I'm just not sure, but if this is how it needs to be, so be it.
Some poor cow out there can rest a little easier now, knowing it won't feel the cold steel of that milking device quite as much as it used to.
And maybe, I won't be changing green foamy diapers by the end of the week.
I guess that would be a win for the the cow and me in some warped way, but a win none the less.

A Funny Little Note, She Called It

Yesterday, I had a one week appointment at my OB's office to have the staples removed.  That isn't really fun, and they put a ton in there, more than 20, but in all honesty, when you been through all I have been through, its kind of a cake walk.
So, My Husband, The Littlest One, and I all loaded up for my appointment, as I am still being chauffeured, and she needs to be close to the milk source at all times.
The appointment started out pretty normally, but it quickly took a turn for the bizarre.  As my Nurse Practitiorer took out her folder with all my notes, she said she had "a funny side note" for us.  I would venture that it is probably just me, and my medical luck, that has things like this said to them, because "funny side notes" about your medical history probably really aren't funny.
She said that when the Drs, either the surgeon or my OB, who were working together, opened me up, one of them noticed a piece of foreign tissue.

I'll stop there and let you process that for a moment.

Not knowing what it was, and only that it didn't belong, they sent it off to pathology to be processed.
That didn't sound good and made me a little anxious.  I was ready to get to the funny.
Then, when she told me what it was, I wasn't ready for funny after all.
When the results came back, they found normal tissue, and in that was either mesh or gauze.
No.  Seriously.
Somebody left something in me.
Now, if you have ever heard my entire birth story from The Big Little One (aka The Middle One), you know I had one of the worst birth experience ever.  It was horrible.  Had I been at a civilian hospital, my actions afterward would have likely involved consulting an attorney.
As a direct result of decisions made there, I have had to have all of these extra surgeries, and will always have something extra in me keeping my body together.
Now, somewhere, someone left something in me.  My last surgery to attempt a repair was about 3 years ago.  That means that piece of what ever it was had been floating around for that long.
Awesome.  Just awesome.
Not so sure if that falls in to the "Funny Side Note" category to me or not, but it definitely is great fit into my already screwed up birth story.  I guess I should just be thankful for the permanent ounce of weight loss the Dr's gave me, and move on knowing there will be one less lump hanging around on my belly.