July.

I miss life. The predictable kind where no one gave a shit about whether I was wearing a mask or not. The life without cancer (again) and tweens (again). My greatest survival tool being sunshine. I can’t even begin to think about Winter.

In this heated political and health crisis, I’m really tired of hearing all. Of. The. Bitching. (Get your ass out and VOTE!). Because if there is something I know for sure, in this life? I’m here, living and breathing. Currently in remission (beginners luck) from a battle that my DNA raged against me that I didn’t agree to. I get to wake up and see the blue skies of summer and see the flowers that I planted in years past. I can hug my littles and FaceTime my big (man, I miss that woman). I can keep smiling every single day for all of the life I still have.

Heated politics, masks, whatever it is, whatever you choose, please, be kind. We are all in a very fragile space. Some more than others.

And smile under your damn masks. I can still see kindness when you do.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Confession

Back in January, when my whole life turned completely upside down (AKA Brad was diagnosed with stage IV small cell carcinoma of the prostate), I was due for my cancer check-up. I went to my appointment and had been having a crazy change to my blood pressure that had never been a factor before. At that time, my provider was concerned that the drugs I was taking post-cancer (Tamoxifen…. look it up. The side effects are very fucking real) might be causing this seemingly instant change to my blood pressure. So, it was decided I would take a break from it BRIEFLY in order to rule it out as a culprit.

Well. I did. But then cancer happened. Again.

Fast forward to today. July. It’s literally been seven months since I’ve taken the only drug that can possibly assist my chances of survival. That’s a long time in the self-imposed survivor roulette.

I sent a message early this week to my Dr’s nurse at the Cancer Center. They scheduled me for Friday at 4:30. Today.

My oncologist was frank with me and gave me the breakdown of all the reasons I was being a complete dumbass and not following the rules. He has this father-figure way about him. Doesn’t say a lot, but you better listen when he does.

Tamoxifen regime begins soon. Within the next couple of days. Until then, I’ll appreciate my bicep blood draw from today. It was a doozy.