Sweet support

As my surgery approaches, both today and yesterday have been filled with sweet cushions of support. Today, my co-workers surprised me at work by wearing pink and pearls, and having a cake, in honor of both my blog and my upcoming surgery! Last night I had a Champagne and Cupcakes party with my girlfriends. We decorated the cupcakes for both Halloween, and for breast cancer awareness, also in honor of my upcoming surgery. (Notice the "boobies" and pink ribbon cupcakes!)
I have been surrounded by love, encouragement, understanding and support from my family, friends and co-workers since the beginning of my breast cancer journey, and have been so lucky and blessed to have such a wonderful support system behind my back every single step of the way. And it's been amazing to have them celebrate with me in the days leading up to my final surgery, to remind me that I'm doing great, I've been strong, and this is almost over.
It took a lot for me to not cry today as I walked into the break room at work and saw all of my co-workers clapping for me and wearing pink and pearls. I had come into work earlier that morning in a pretty rotten mood (like I've been the past few days), but seeing everyone there supporting me and rooting for me ... there are no words, really. These are people I see every day at work. I see them in my good moods and bad, and through it all they've remained consistent and loyal to me: always asking how I'm doing and feeling, and telling me, in so many ways, that they're thinking of me and praying for me. They've been kind and patient and understanding. I've been able to be open and honest with them, which is important to me. But to see them all there, at once, in pink, was overwhelmingly amazing. I was reminded, yet again, how amazing the people in my life are. It's funny, really, how every reminder gives me more strength.
And last night, with some of my best girlfriends, as we toasted with pink champagne to my "new boobs" and decorated cupcakes, I realized, yet again, how lucky I am to not only have such supportive and understanding friends, but to have friends who really get me. Who understand I need to make cupcakes that look like boobs, and drink champagne, and take silly pictures.


I could say (and have) again and again how lucky I am to have such a wonderful, amazing, phenomenal support system. I could say it 17 million times. I could shout it from the rooftops. But it would never, ever be enough. It would never even begin to scrape the surface of the love I feel every single day from the people in my life. My friends in State College. My family in Virginia. My family in New York. My family in Washington, D.C. My friends and family (Drewbie) in West Virginia. My friends overseas, in England and Israel. My childhood friends, whom I've known since preschool and kindergarten, who have reached out to me. My friends from high school, whom I haven't spoken to in years. My friends and co-counselors from camp. And my fiance, Sean. Who listens to me cry and complain and worry. Who talks sense into me, and snaps me back into reality. Who makes me soup. Who gives me back massages. Who is there for me, every single second of every single day. Who is my rock, my best friend, my support, my love, my inspiration, my encouragement. My everything. Sean: without you I could not do this. You hold my hand. Reassure me. Drive me to doctor's appointments. Ask questions at the doctor's appointments. Sit next to me, keep me calm. You never miss a beat. You're always there, and always where you're supposed to be, when you're supposed to be. You take the reins when you need to. You take control of the situation when I can't - physically and mentally. There is no way I could list all the ways in which you're there for me, and in which you are my perfect partner, my soulmate, my life. You are my "meant to be." Because I have you, I can get through anything. And I want to get through anything. You are my everything.
Every single person in my life has been beyond amazing, in a variety of ways. And if I tried to count the ways in which I have been supported, I wouldn't know where to start. I would lose track. If each way was one M&M, there would be warehouses full of them, up to the roof, spilling over into the street. You would drown in them. (A happy, chocolate-induced drowning, of course.)
So here's a pink champagne toast to my beautiful friends and family, beautiful cake and cupcakes these past two days, and pink and pearls.
Because of the strength the many people in my life have given me, I am able to raise my metaphorical glass, lined with pink and pearls, and toast my support system, who, every day, in my eyes, are wearing pink and pearls for me; toast my upcoming marriage to the most amazing man in the world; and toast my future: a life of happiness and health and family, where breast cancer will one day be a thing of the past.
L'Chaim! {to life!}