In the Ensuing Panic

This blog is meant to be an honest record of what I think and feel as well as about what is going on in my life. With that in mind, I feel very cranky and unhappy today. For those who want to comfort and/or chide me about this, I am not interested. I want to be this way for awhile. So, I will be ignoring all comments of the above nature.

I am hot. The whole world is hot and I am not sure it is ever going to be cool again.

The house is a wreck. It has always been a wreck and always will be. My children make messes and don’t clean them up. Then, they act like I am killing them when I suggest they do so. They certainly could not make any more noise if I actually were.

I am bored. Nothing interesting has happened in some time and may never again.

I am never going to finish writing my book. I spend too much time working for that. And, when I do have time off, I have to work on the house.

I don’t fit in most of my vintage clothes right now. This makes me very unhappy. I like them and think I may never get to wear them again. There are very few vintage clothes available in my current size.

I am most angry about the years wasted by the cancer and its side effects. Some two and a half years of my life were spent dealing with this. Years I could have spent doing things that would have moved our family forward. Things that might have left us in a better position. I don’t even remember most of those years. Yes, they are almost totally a blank in my mind! Only small scenes peek through. What could I have done if this had not been so? In addition, these were the years in which medicinal side effects put on the current weight that I cannot seem to lose. I would be much healthier and more active if this had not happened. (No, I am not interested in reflecting on the fact that God spared my life–please see the first paragraph). I want those years back. I want to feel the ages I should have felt during those years and do the things I should have been able to do. I want revenge.

This is ridiculous! The cancer was ten years ago and it is still wrecking my life. I cannot get back what I lost and I cannot retrieve what I would have had. I am mad, mad, mad! And there are those who think “Save the Tatas!” is a light-hearted way to show support. Why don’t you have both your breasts removed and reconstructed (no, I will never feel anything there again!) before you are forty and then tell me how “cute” that is. I am quite sure that we will not see “light-hearted” support for testicular cancer patients reading, “Save the Family Jewels”. Men’s testicles are too “important” to be made fun of in that way. Women’s breasts are not, though. We are tired of this. Find a solution to the problem and quit running around “showing support”. I don’t want support, I want to be sure that this will not happen to someone else.

I really want my breasts back. I want to feel something there. I want to know when I am about to hug an acquaintance too closely before they pull back in alarm. I want to feel it when FMP casually walks by and gropes me. I even want to feel it if I accidentally hit myself there while trying to catch something. Surely, our neuroscience has advanced to such a state that I need not have totally lost feeling. This is the very worst part for me.

I am cranky and unhappy today and I intend to run with it. I may run with it tomorrow, too. I may run with it until someone does something about it. Do something, people! Stop just saying, “we are sorry”, “we support you”, “you are so brave” and other junk. Give me back my life! And don’t let breast cancer take anyone else’s! Get to it! NOW!