To Wear a Bra, or to Not Wear a Bra? - That is the question.

My last batch of pumpkin bread is in the oven tonight. This year I only had to make 4 batches. My mothers recipe, which I've been making since I can remember, is to die for. It is awesome. Funny, even though my house smells of Thanksgiving to me, my mindset is so completely different this year then in years past. It's not that I'm a Bah Humbug - don't get me wrong - I luuuuuv this time of year - it's just I can't be bothered this year. I used to go crazy making pumpkin bread, cheese logs, chutney, all this traditional stuff for people before the holiday - and this year, I just don't want to. I just want to be with my family on Thanksgiving, perhaps not change out of my pajamas till way late in the day, and just enjoy each other. Can't really be bothered to stress out or cook till the wee hours of the night. Maybe next year I will feel differently, but for now, this just feels right. I've got everything for our dinner, and I will cook that - totally no big deal, but I ordered my pies this year - I never do that. AND I think, now this is kind of embarrassing, I think I'm going to go for the Country Crock refrigerated garlic mashed potatoes too - I have NEVER done that! I just want the easy way out this year, don't want to work that hard. Maybe I'm just tired. Gee, I wonder why.

So I'm feeling good - although I got super tired by the end of this week. Yes, I probably pushed it a bit this week - trying to do too much, but I haven't felt this great in awhile and it feels so good to feel, well, good! My blood counts are great, I have them checked every week until I go back on the 30th for the series of tests to see how the theresphere took - so I am thrilled about that. I had refused the Nulasta shot at CTCA - I hate them - they make me feel like total shit - so I refused it, trusting my blood counts would be fine without it - and YAY! they were! I took Madeline with me this last time and had her watch me get my blood drawn - little 'teachable moment' for her. I overheard her talking about it with PJ during bath time tonight - she was confused at how my blood was coming out into this tube then it just stopped - he explained how our bodies know how to stop the bleeding after applying pressure. Then she said "And Jesus helps heal too dad". He agreed. Pretty cool.

Mentally I think I'm doing ok. Me deciding to move my care to CTCA has done more for me mentally than I anticipated. Not that I have a false sense of hope or anything, I just feel like I have this huge team of people focused on healing me - in a very clinical, focused, professional way. Not that I didn't have that kind of care before, well, actually, I didn't have a team before - I was trying to assemble my own team PLUS deal with this disease which was a nightmare - but - this is just different. The kind of experience I am having through this is what every person diagnosed with cancer deserves. CTCA has given me another layer of fight that I that I didn't know I needed. But I did. I have finally started believing that there is a real possibility that I can beat this thing - finally. Not that I didn't before, but I always had this 'when will the other shoe drop' kind of mentality. I was positive, but subconsciously just waiting for it to drop. Now, just logically looking and what has been done to me medically, it brings me to tears because there is a real and tangible chance that it's gone on my liver. I believe that it is gone. I have to. My spiritual journey supports this in amazing ways. Sometimes I can't even find the words to describe it - just amazing.

We had my father in law for the weekend. We try and have him up here with us a at least a weekend a month - when my stupid cancer doesn't get in the way. He is 61 and has Alzheimer's. He is the sweetest man - and I watch him and think, does he understand what is happening to him? And I don't know what to wish for for the answer to that. I look at myself and think - well, at least I know what is going on and have choices. A lot of people don't get that chance in this life. But then I look at him, and it breaks my heart to think he very well may know that he is changing in his mind, and can't do a damn thing to stop it. Please, keep him in your thoughts and prayers, his name is Paul.

The Comedy for a Cause benefit is coming up on Tues and I am excited and feel weird about it all at the same time. Excited to see these people I haven't seen in years, then weird about people doing something so nice for me. Still so uncomfortable for me to be OK with people doing things for me. But glad that we are there to laugh - because that is what even my therapist at CTCA ordered for me - more laughter. I just hope I don't cry too much (yea right). I thought I cried a lot before I was diagnosed - now? Anything really - I was crying at frickin Michael Jackson 'This Is It' movie tonight. Oy. I should just throw a box of Kleenex in my purse now.

OH! So I've decided to go ahead with the final stage of my reconstruction and my final surgery is on Dec 17th. Now, I thought long and hard about this and I decided to finish because I would like to look down and see something other than a long scar across my new fabulous boobies. (they are fabulous by the way - ask PJ - WOW - totally love them) Now, he is going to make 'tops' (remember, I don't use the N word - total yuk word to me) then he puts these little cap things on that I keep on for a week or so so they don't fall off (not kidding) then I go back in when I'm healed and they tattoo on the areola. Now, because I don't like tops very much, I'm not going to ask him to make mine very big - AND I was thinking of having my areola tattooed on in like a star shape - hmm? I wonder if I'll be able to pick from a book or areolas like an areola mug shot book or something. Hmmmmm. Hey - everything is worth it if you get a good story - and this my friend, will be the best story of this whole reconstruction journey. This time last year I was packing my open wounds from my incisions not healing correctly. Wow. An entire year ago - I can't believe it. So glad though I went this route. I told my plastic surgeon when I was in last week how grateful I was for him and what he has done for me. I told him that I seriously didn't think I wanted to continue after the double infection, that that experience for me was bad, really bad. But I didn't know what a difference it would make to have the reconstruction done - more mentally than anything else. It has given me my sense of femininity back on a level I wasn't even aware of. This disease robs you of all your femininity - from your breasts, to your ovaries, to your hair, to your dignity. To get a little bit of that back feels way better than I thought it would. I told him that what he does matters, and that I was very thankful for him. So true.

Well, my hubby starts his new job tomorrow - we are so excited. I will go and offer to iron his shirt for him, which he will politely decline. He knows better to have me touch an iron. Smart man.

God Bless -