Obsessive-Compulsive Behavior (camouflaged as discipline) Can Be a Superpower

I am doing fantastically well.

I started with that statement because more than a handful of you has messaged me to let me know you are concerned about my virtual-MIA-ness. Thank you for that, it means a lot to me. My incision is healing beautifully… I’m regaining mobility a lot faster than expected… And although we aren’t yet sure what will happen next (the pathology isn’t back), I feel quite ready (even eager) for what’s to come.

I spend most of my day reading about chemo, radiation, hormones, supplemental therapies, nutrition, exercise… and anything I can think of that might ready me for the conversations I will have with the breast and radiation oncologists once the lab results are back. Writing, researching, exercising several times a day, sleeping for healing, groping my Piano Man for healing, 😀 and spending a ridiculous amount of time staring at my new sexy in the mirror takes a lot of my day and night.

So, please don’t worry, my Wicked Luvs. I am not in pain (or in any more pain than I have been in the last decade. Just busy, busy, busy… and sort of obsessed (in the best of ways) with the new bits of me. Some might find this attitude unhealthy, feel that I’m allowing myself to be consumed by the effects of the disease. But… in my case, at least, they would be wrong. When it comes to new trials, I’m disciplined to the point of obsession—I use all the energy and time I can afford in eliminating the immediate threat, analyzing anything I’ve gained (or lost) in the battle… then I play (blog, Instagram, Facebook) and move on to the next fight.

That is how I work. I assess the enemy, acknowledge (and delight in) my assets, then I sink my teeth into anything fighting against me… until one of us cries for mercy, runs, or agrees to go into a long, long, long… period of remission.

I suspect my blogging will become more predictable in a week or three. Until then, remember: I’m not suffering at the bottom of some dark lagoon. Nope. I’m exploring the lagoon’s revealing darkness… while wondering how much yummier the cool water will feel on my skin… after chemo takes all my hair… and my boob and I get to swim naked and grinning (and roaring battle-cry-bubbles) like the fluidly-sexy-beast I know myself to be.

 

P.S. I will lurk around your cyber-homes (and reply to your words here, Instagram, Facebook…) sometime tonight. Be good. Be wicked. Be wicked good, my Luvs.

 

Off to Say Adios to My Boob

As I was adding my PJ bottoms to my I’m-off-to-say-adios-to-my-right-boob bag, I thought I should write a short post to let you know that I’m still kicking and stuff…

The house is cleaned (my Piano Man rocks!), the post-op food is frozen (my stove and fridge and I rock!), the audiobooks and movies have been downloaded (Dark, The Babysitter, Little Evil, Misery… *may all that’s holy and suitably-humored protect any person who might have the pleasure of being my roomy*), the writing and blackout poetry materials are ready. I am ready.

I don’t plan to blog until I’m released from the hospital, properly de-boobed (and hopefully de-cancered). But I’ll probably stroll around Facebook and/or Instagram after the medical ninjas (with an absolutely acceptable boob fixation) finish the 1st battle towards re-sculpting my sexy bits back to health.

Send me some positive thoughts. Thoughts infused with wild laughter. Laughter that’s stronger because it was lived. Lived jokes (with inappropriate punchlines).

I will be
less of a bad thing,
but… more me

 

oh, yes… my PJs rock!