Warrior Weary

Me & one of my best life-long friends, Lori, who lost her
 sister to breast cancer at too young of an age.

"I don't want to scold you, but don't let Tamoxifen be an excuse to eat a lot."  This is what my Oncologist said to me at my last appointment.  Seriously?  You are going to pick on a poor bi-lateral breast cancer survivor for gaining weight??  I LOVE HER!  It's about time someone pointed out what was obvious to me.  I knew it would be a bad weigh-in so I closed my eyes and instructed the nurse not to tell me the damage when I stepped on the scale. There went the honeymoon period. Time to get to work.  This 5'1" frame can't afford even a 10 lb weight gain and expect to fit into the clothes in the closet.  So I'm working out almost every day and trying to eat a lot better, although there are times I'm so famished I can hardly stand it (Tamoxifen side-effect).  I promised her a better scale number the next time I see her in September.  She also ordered another MRI on my abdomen, to see whether the incidental lesion found on my liver has grown at all.  Although the PET scan I had in January showed it to be non-cancerous, it could still be a matter of concern if it grows.  Unfortunately, because of this DAMNED tissue expander that is still in my body, I cannot have the MRI yet because of the magnetic port on the expander.  The last thing we'd need is a reverse impalement with my port shooting out of my bosom.  It looks like this MRI will likely take place in August as soon as I'm feeling well enough following my implant surgery on July 31.  Again...timeline too slow for this impatient girl.

We all have our battles to fight in life.  Now that I'm awaiting my final implant surgery, I have finally grown very "warrior" weary of all that has taken place since May 16, 2011.  I'm tired of the doctor's offices, tired of the insurance battles, tired of the driving, and even tired of all the pink. There is a feeling of isolation that I can't put my finger on, a feeling of not belonging to a category, group or demographic. Most of you are thinking, "but Amy, you belong in a class of your own!" (HAHA!!) Well, I'm here to tell ya, I just want to be normal and lead a normal life, but life doesn't seem to be leading me that way for some reason! It is a very difficult thing to pinpoint and explain.  At my last show, there was a mastectomy bra booth that I visited and all the women there had 20 years on me.  The sympathetic eyes and questions caught me off-guard.  And the "you went through this alone" comments! I was hardly alone.  I don't think anyone could have had more people by her side.  Yet, yes, I get their sympathy because I do feel alone. Weirdly. 

Living on the lake all summer, wearing a bathing suit the entire weekend is not uncommon for me.  This summer, I find myself completely jealous of all the women, young and old, who have their own boobs...whether they are small, big, saggy, or whatever, at least they have them!  As much as mine may "appear" to look good in a bikini, they are actually hard, cold, scarred, and lifeless.  Space-fillers.  That's what I call them!  None of my friends get this.  I am extremely thankful for my oncology surgeon who rid me of cancer, and for the plastic surgeon doing his best to make it all look better, don't get me wrong.  I guess I'm just experiencing bitterness that I had to get breast cancer in the first place. 

For being very happy and blessed, that was kind of a downer blog entry- SORRY!  I am actually doing very well.  I'm anxious for July 31, and I think I might throw up when I walk in that place- it brings back the most horrible memories of one of the worst days of my life getting the news that I had another malignant tumor in my other breast.  But I only have two boobs, thank God, so I'm sure all will go well this time around!

For all you newbies reading my blog, the comment box doesn't work most of the time, but please feel free to leave feedback at amymariesmith93@gmail.com.  And follow me on Twitter, please!  @amysmith70.