Things to celebrate TODAY

Happy Friday! While driving to work this morning I got to thinking about four major and exciting milestones and celebrations today, and the next few days, brings! Read on, my darlings!

1. Today, September 30, is Sean's birthday! Happy birthday, honey! I love you so much! I'm wishing you nothing but health, happiness and love this year, and all the years to come!

2. Tomorrow, Oct. 1, marks the official 6-month countdown to the wedding! I always said, many months ago, that when we got to the 6-month mark it would fly by. Well, six months still feels FOREVER away, but considering we've been engaged longer than that, and planning since February, it doesn't seem like that long. Bring it on! This also means, that because the wedding is six months away, four amazing, fun things will happen between now and then: my bridal shower, my bachelorette weekend, and two Aufrufs (being called to the Torah before marriage). So it may be six months until the actual wedding, but it's even sooner until pre-wedding parties. And, we've already had two engagement parties, which were both equally fabulous, so we've got that under our belts!

3. Tomorrow, Oct. 1, also marks the official month of my surgery. I don't have to say I will get my expander out, and my implants in, NEXT month; come tomorrow, it will be happening THIS month, and that's a major, major milestone, and something to be insanely excited about.

4. In a few days, Oct. 4, Sean and I will celebrate our three-year anniversary! Three years of being together is amazing, and I've loved every single second of it. Here's to the next million years!

So many things are happening today, and will be happening in the days to come. We're making way with wedding, health and other countdowns, and that's something to be excited about! This just proves, as the days move on, life does move on. And as much as I'm trying to "live in the moment," and live as balanced as possible without too many ups and downs, and ups that are so up they turn into downs, it's still exciting to have countdowns. Because part of me believes after my next surgery, after my expander is out and my implants are in, and after I've recovered, a sense of normalcy will be restored to my life. But that may not be the case. I may still be as anxious as before, or maybe I'll be better because I'll be in less pain and I'll know the surgery's over. Or maybe it will just take time. Maybe I'll get a little bit closer with each passing day, week and month. And the further away I get from the breast cancer, the better I'll feel. I won't know for sure, and that's really OK. After all, I'm taking everything one day at a time.
This has been a really difficult few months for me and I know the effects of breast cancer will be eternal. These two things, which I just typed, are things I've maybe always said and thought, but never really ACCEPTED. And maybe I still don't accept them fully. Because this whole time I've been going around and around trying to either make the best of the situation by over-doing it, or allowing myself to be a mess, or whatever. It's always been circles and cycles. It's been trying to plan and get excited about the best moment in my life while also dealing with, on a daily basis, one of the worst things that's ever happened in my life. To say these past few months have been "difficult" are really an understatement and don't even really describe everything. But it's a statement that's true. And what's interesting about this whole breast cancer journey is that I'm learning new things about it, and its effects on me and my life, every single day. And sometimes, I can repeat the same statements, but each time they take on a new meaning. And I'm not really sure if that means I'm moving forward or not; it just means I can look at the situation a little differently, whether it's better or worse. And I guess that's better than never, ever looking at it differently. I mean, changing views can be a good thing because it means my mind is working and turning. And saying that - that this has been a difficult few months for me - helps somewhat because it allows me to look at the situation as a whole, and not as little individual pieces, which is what I've been doing lately. The whole of it is: this is an extremely difficult time in my life. Saying it like that suggests it's just that: a "time" in my life and not my whole life. And saying the effects of breast cancer are eternal does make me mad but it also brings me closer to acceptance. Forever I'll know, and maybe even be reminded every day, that I lost a breast to cancer and that I have implants. I may love them and they may look good, but it isn't really me. And that's OK too, to have those thoughts.
So I've learned, through writing this post, that whatever thoughts I have now about my breast cancer and the wedding, may not be the same thoughts I have six months from now, or even two weeks from now. And THAT is good to know. And THAT is life moving on.
The wheels are turning, both on the inside and on the outside, and that's something we can all be grateful for.

Martini Monday! (& other fabulous parties!)

Although Martini Monday (also referred to as Martini Partini), was a few weeks ago, I'm posting pictures now because I'm pretty proud of how successful it was. My definition of party success = people having a fun time. Though this was the first one, I see many more in the future!

The deets

I added beer and wine to the menu because, well, not everyone likes a martini. In fact, most people I know don't like dirty martinis at all. Must be the combination of vodka and olive juice! Though, the reason we DID feature the dirty 'tini during Martini Monday was because I found out two of our close friends ADORE dirty martinis in the same way I do, so I wanted to make an "event" out of it and invite others to taste. I think we recruited Stephanie, actually! Welcome to the club, Steph!
Other details, besides the martini glasses, were Rat Pack music in the background and "M" napkins which my friend Karishma bought me many years ago, and I was saving for a special occasion. Sure, the "M" stands for Marjorie, but in this case, it also stood for Martini and Monday, respectively. We also told our friends to wear cocktail attire, which helped set the mood. Because when I think of sipping martinis I think of cocktail dresses and heels. However, wine may be sipped whilst donning sweatpants, yes?

Ruffled babies

These little beauties made their debut during Martini Monday, and they got plenty of compliments. One of my favorite fashion trends, and something I've done for years, has been to pair black and white with red. As you can see in the pictures, I wore a black shirt with a black-and-white large-dotted skirt (which my dental hygienist once referred to as "throwback" which I thought was fabulous!), and red faux suede high heels. I love the ruffles because they're feminine, yet also bold and exciting, and a bit unexpected, like most shoe embellishments are! Ruffles, and other embellishments, like bows, take your typical high heel and dial it up a notch. That's why I'm really into shoe clips these days. (see http://www.shopbando.com). You can literally clip on flowers or sequined hearts on any pair of shoes, extending your shoe collection by many!

Are we making it right?

The first time I've actually used my bar book. Really, I just scanned the page to make sure I wasn't forgetting any ingredients. The Dirty Martini, luckily, doesn't involve too many ingredients, AND, it happens to be my favorite martini to both sip and hold. However, I owe ALL the martini-making credit to my friends Kayla and Duff who made the drinks all night. And they did a fantastic job with the dirties, or else I wouldn't have had three.

The station

Any time a party involves "making" something, there ought to be a station so people aren't falling all over each other. A station ensures that the development of the product be done in a certain place that accomodates it. In other words, it makes it more orderly and fun. Not that a party has to be "orderly" per se (right, Martha Stewart?); it's just that having a specific station for a certain thing eliminates confusion and attracts people to participate. Like a pizza-making station, or a sundae-making station. All the ingredients are right there for easy mixing and creating.

Girlfriends

What's better than sipping martinis on a Monday? Sipping them with your girlfriends! One reason I love my friends (and Sean) so much is that they willingly participate in my party shenanigans!

On a similar note, while talking with my therapist about my needing a new "hobby" to distract myself from my wedding, which I have become overly excited about (not that that's a bad thing; it's just exhausting for my physical and mental health to be in a constant state of excitement literally all.the.time), I said, referring to hobbies: some people knit. Others cook. Others take yoga, or join a book club, or coach soccer. Me, I plan parties. I think of party ideas. I like itinieraries. (Ok, this part I'm adding). But this is what I do. This is my "hobby." Make fun of it if you want, but I'll take a moment here to brag and say that I think I'm pretty good at my hobby. And one day, I hope this hobby turns into a career. I've already been planning (both in my head and on paper) Marjorie Events, which will hopefully one day be my event planning business. I've actually been thinking about it since 2005 when I was a special events assistant for Reston Association. Thinking about my future event planning business has been a continuous process for me. It's been something I've been dreaming about, fantasizing about, and imagining for many years. Some details I write down, others remain in my head. It's my "happy place" I go to. I know what my office will look like (there will be lots of plants, a Keurig and my own bathroom), what kind of staff I'll hire, what events I'll host, and all of the details that go with.
Other successful events I've hosted (back to real life now) or helped host, which I believe add to my bragging rights, include Champagne Thursdays, which I started in college with my roommate Jenny. We got the idea from the movie "Failure to Launch" in which Sarah Jessica Parker's housemate Zooey Deschannel handed her a glass of champagne after work and said "It's Champage Thursday!"
Champagne Thursday turned into an almost-monthly party, hosted at different friends' houses and apartments. We had various themes, including two Pretty in Pinks, a camo night, and blackout (in which we all wore all black and turned out the lights - my older, more mature me says that probably wasn't very safe), amongst other themes. The parties turned into something spectacular. There was even a Facebook group about it. It was fun and a very memorable part of college. Though it's been years since the last Champagne Thursday (and rightly so because they are now retired), the memories remain and all involved will agree it was a "thing" in college; something epic, that helped define our years at West Virginia University. (Too much?)
Also in college I threw a successful "Celebrity Luau" during the summer (while I was taking summer classes) in which all attendees were asked to dress like a celebrity, and I provided luau attire and decorations.
In my ninth grade year of high school, I threw a party at the end of the school year to celebrate the end of my Leukemia treatment and also my belated birthday (which is in December). We rented out a space at Lake Anne, and got a DJ and everything. About 100 of my classmates and friends attended. The night was amazing to me. I got my hair done in a curly updo (it was the first time I'd ever had my hair teased), and I wore a little yellow floral dress with beige platforms. (Oh, how platforms were fabulous in the early 2000s!) And I covered my body in roll-on glitter. (Teenage girls did that, ya know.) I remember that night we danced all night long and my friends were talking about it for a long time after. My dad even had to leave the party in the middle to buy more soda since we ran out. I think that party also kind of took the place of a Bat Mitzvah, which I never got to have since I got sick only three months before it was scheduled to take place. I remember hand-decorating the envelopes for the invitations with markers and stickers, and then handing them out in school. (Pre-Evite era, of course.) That party was a blow out!
I also remember a girls' night I hosted about two years ago in my apartment in Lewistown. I set up blankets and pillows in the middle of my living room, and put out magazines, and nail polish for us to paint each other's nails. I taped pink and white balloons to my stair railing, and put out all kinds of snacks, including M&Ms in martini glasses. (And I believe we had boxed apple-tinis!) I even filled baskets with lotions and soaps the girls could take with them when they left. We all talked, ate and drank, and actually painted each other's nails! (Yes, we were all in our 20s but it can still be fun!)
That same year I hosted a Halloween party, which was like your typical Halloween party, complete with candy and decorations. But it was so much fun that at the end of the night my once-white kitchen floor was black (we actually created a dance floor), and there was cupcake smeared on the wall. Ok, it actually took me a few days to clean up from that, which is why I vowed never to have another Halloween party again, but at the time it was a blast.
In my junior year of high school I hosted a Valentine's Day sit-down dinner party where I typed up a menu. I remember wearing a pink pencil skirt I got during a trip to New York City with my friend Rachel, whose aunt lives there. Everyone sat around the table elegantly and sipped orange soda.
Also in high school, that same friend Rachel and I hosted a surprise tea party at her house for my mom's birthday. We spent all day making little sandwiches, and invited all of her lady friends. We even dressed in white shirts and black skirts and served the food! I remember I had just gotten my self-proclaimed "Jennifer Aniston-like" haircut, complete with many layers, so my hair was extra bouncy that day. (Oh, the things I remember...)
One summer in college, I hosted a cocktail party at my mom's house. (she will NEVER, EVER let me live this one down.) The drink of the night was the Marj-tini, which was actually an apple martini (my favorite drink at the time). I decorated the deck with lights and small Japanese lanterns.
I think we went through two handles of vodka that night, and my mom's fridge was sticky for weeks from vodka spilling inside. And, everyone was drunk. Some guys even brought a case of beer later in the night. We actually had to move from the deck to the basement because we were so loud. My mom was furious. But, it still makes the "successful parties" list because I will never, ever forget it.
There have been many other parties over the years, but the ones I remember most are the ones I can take pride in. And I take pride in them because they were fun, memorable and unique.
Well, this blog post DID begin as me writing about Martini Monday, but turned into a post about my love for planning parties. It's funny how writing does that. You start with one idea and then explore another one. You, at the end, reveal what you really think, or how you really feel, about certain things. That's why writing is therapeutic for me. I've always known I loved planning parties, but I guess I never shared with anyone before, to what extent. And sometimes when I write, I'm not just sharing things, but I'm actually discovering things about myself. And sorting out ideas. And that's extremely cleansing.
Call me crazy about my party-planning madness or my dream of starting an event planning company. But, shouldn't we all have dreams? If we don't, where are we really going? And if we don't have things that we love, no matter what it is, what are we really doing?
So maybe it's OK if I love planning things a little too much. I'd rather have that than not love anything at all.

Apples & honey for a sweet new year!

L'Shana Tova!

Tonight at sundown marks the start of the Jewish New Year - Rosh Hashanah. Usually I'd be with mine or Sean's family for this special occasion, but my current medical situation has robbed me of all my personal and vacation days, meaning I can't take off work. It's sad I won't be with Sean or my family, but I'm still celebrating, internally.
The Jewish new year, much like the "regular" one at the beginning of January, marks a new time. We start fresh, and hope for a year even better than the last. Although it hasn't even been a year since my breast cancer diagnosis, I'm looking at tonight, and the days and months that follow, as a fresh start: a year (and many, many years after) without breast cancer. Rosh Hashanah allows me to do that. Tonight is the start of something new, and hopefully better.
That's not to say that this past Jewish year wasn't filled with amazing things. After all, I got engaged! This past year HAS been amazing and special in every way. But now I get the chance to start over. In this new year I'll finish my breast cancer surgeries, and I'll get married! I'll start a new life, and a new family, with Sean. It will be a brand new chapter in my life. And I hope it's a healthy one.
It's actually kind of a relief that Rosh Hashanah is here, and I really didn't realize that until a few moments ago. Rosh Hashanah, usually for me, is like any other Jewish holiday. There's food and family and spirituality. But for some reason this year it's different. I feel almost free of what has plagued me these past few months; free of the breast cancer, and closer to G-d. Almost like G-d is saying: "yeah, I know this past year sucked, but I've got my eye on you, and I promise it will be better this coming year."
I'm not really a religious person. I've always had the same amount of "religious-ness" my whole life, I think. I do pray to G-d every day, and I believe in him, and I believe he's got mine, and the people I love's, best interests at heart. I believe he lets everything work out in the end, and I believe he watches over me. But I don't keep Kosher (hello, crab cakes), nor do I go to synagogue reguarly, and I don't really recite Hebrew prayers, except the (forgive my spelling) Shechechianu - which is basically a prayer that thanks G-d for bringing you to this day- this moment.
On a side note, I actually started saying that prayer during my Leukemia treatment. The first time I really said it (and meant it) was while I was in the shower while in the hospital during treatment. It was the first time in a few days I was well enough to stand up long enough to take a shower myself, and I said the prayer to thank G-d for letting me get to that moment. Since that day, 11 years ago, I have said that prayer every single day, because every single day I am thanking G-d for letting me get to where I am today.
So I don't consider myself super religious, but in my opinion, what's great about Judaism is you're allowed to practice how you wish. You can participate, if you will, in what's comfortable and meaningful to you. So that's what I've always done. But for some reason this year, this new year, I feel closer to G-d. And I really believe, deep down, things will get better.
So having this new year is a fresh start, and although I can't exactly forget (nor am I done) with my breast cancer journey, there is a little bit of relief knowing that that Jewish year (the year of breast cancer) is over, and a new one will begin tonight. If I don't believe in that, what can I believe in, really? I've got to believe in something, and I believe in the Jewish new year, and G-d naturally, so for that I'm grateful.
And soon after the new year is Yom Kippur, the Jewish day of atonement, where we fast and pray all day, and ask G-d to forgive us for all the wrong we've done in the past year, and vow to be better in the coming year. Like a clean slate, we rid ourselves of past negativity. As much as I hate fasting (but like wearing high heels all day in temple), Yom Kippur is especially meaningful to me because I always feel like I have plenty of "bad stuff" I need to be forgiven for, such as yelling. Yelling is probably my worst vice. So when Yom Kippur rolls around in a few weeks, although I won't be at synagogue with Sean and his family, I can still celebrate the holiday in my own way. I can still reflect and talk to G-d. That's the beauty of G-d; he is everywhere, so you don't need to be in a sanctuary to talk to him.
As much as I really, really hate what's happened to me these past few months, and as much as I cry and yell over the physical pain I feel every day, and as much as I feel robbed of my femininity, and and as much as I'm devestated over this happening while I'm planning my wedding, and as much as I sometimes hate the world and think it's unfair, I still feel, at the very bottom of my core, that this happened for a reason and the reason is to make me better. Like I've mentioned in another post, I can't picture my life now without breast cancer. It has become a part of me. It's a part of my story now. It's not that I feel it's made me stronger yet. Or a better person. It's that it's just a part of my life.
So when I pray to G-d and "talk" to him about what's happened, I tend to think he "did" this to me, or that he allowed this to happen. As bad as that sounds, because I believe in him as the highest power there is, I believe he is associated with what happens to me. While I'm not really sure, and may never be, if that's true or not, I do believe he knows that it happened and knows what will become of me because of it. He knows what I don't yet know, and that's me on the other side of this. He knows who Marjorie will be after all this. He's very much aware of what I'm going through. I won't say he "allowed" this to happen because that's not exactly the right word. It's more he's aware of it. People could argue for decades about religion and G-d and if he exists, and if he does exist, why does he let bad things happen to good people. But I won't get into that because everyone has different beliefs and I respect that. But my belief - what I choose to believe in today, and have always believed in - is that G-d is there through the good and the bad. He mostly watches, but sometimes he intervenes. And throughout my breast cancer journey he's been watching. He's been there the whole time. And it's comforting to believe that. And that's all it is: comfort. But we should never underestimate the power of comfort, no matter how little it appears sometimes.
The comfort is believing G-d is there, whether or not I'm in synagogue, during the start of the Jewish new year. And he's watching me through this, and knows I can do this. And that's really where the belief comes from, deep down. I know getting cancer isn't an "act" of G-d. But because it happened in my life, and because G-d is a part of my life and watches my life, I garner, from him, the strength and power that I believe he has in ME.

These are a few of my favorite things ...

{things I'm completely in love with right now}

HobNobs. Our friend Becca came and stayed with us last weekend, and she brought me a thoughtful care package of the most beautiful things: Betsey Johnson socks, a pink pen which I now use every day at work, a pink journal with gold lettering, Pez, and HobNob cookies! They are basically made of rolled oats and coated with chocolate. I did some "research" (thanks, Google, which celebrats its 13th birthday today!), and found out HobNobs are sold in the United Kindgon and Ireland, but CAN be bought on Amazon! They also apparently come in many different varieties. But these, my friend, are a taste of HEAVEN. I'm not picky about chocolate or cookies or really anything of that matter, but I really like these because it tastes like oatmeal and chocolate together, which really aren't things you find all the time rolled into a cookie. Yum, yum, yum. I will rave about these forever, much like I do with Panda licorice. For those on Weight Watchers, 2 cookies are 5 PointsPlus!

"Rich in Spirit" by Nicole for O.P.I. Ok, so I've turned into quite a nail polish junkie. (I purchased my first Essie a few weeks ago!) Like shoes and bags, nail polish is collectible; different colors go with different outfits, seasons and moods. This fall I'm really into shades of blues and grays, and neutral or nude colors, like Essie's "Mamba." Having newly-polished nails with a newly-bought color ranks right up there with the first sip of coffee in the morning.

Blue jeweled bracelet from Forever 21. It literally goes with everything, which I love, and is perfect to blend with fall colors, especially gray. I love having a statement piece which can do wonders for any outfit.

Martha Stewart Weddings magazine from 2005. This was given to me by one of my co-workers and I absolutely adore it! I love Martha Stewart anyway, but this magazine, though published in 2005, is still very relevant today. It's full of great ideas and the pictures are beautiful and inspiring to look at! (Some of the cakes took my breath away!)

I hate these months

My apologies for not posting in a few days! (or, nearly a week I guess)
Things have been busy. Life has been busy. Between Martini Monday, Sean's birthday dinner, football games and a wedding we went to yesterday in New Jersey for my friends Danielle and Ian (which was absolutely BEAUTIFUL!!!!-Mazel Tov to them both!), I haven't really had the time. But alas, here I am, posting.
Ever since my post about working on finding balance, I have felt a little less zig-zaggy because instead of trying to fill my calendar to the max, I'm taking the time to think about what I really want to do, and the rest I need. Because as much as having plans and having fun IS good for me, the busier I am, the more I move around, and the more I move around, the more the expander hurts. I am in the least amount of pain while I'm relaxing at home. Now I've already figured out that I need to go to work every day, and I can't sit at home all the time because it wouldn't be good for me. And, life doesn't pause because of this. That being said, it doesn't mean I have to do everything all the time. Because the truth is, when the expander hurts from rushing around all the time, I get more stressed and more depressed about being in constant pain, and stress makes it hurt even more. Stress causes the muscles around the expander to contract -- not fun or pleasant. So even just being conscious of the fact that I don't need to do everything all the time, and I need to rest in order to take care of myself, has already helped tremenously with the highs and the lows and being all over the place.
I still am keeping the plans I've already made, but instead of looking at my calendar and seeing an empty day and trying to fill it immediately, I take the time to think: would I like to relax that day? Would relaxing be good for my well-being? Would it help with my overall outlook? Yes, yes and yes. When I'm relaxed, I'm not in as much pain, and when I'm not in as much pain I am more optimistic about having the expander in for another month. And that is daunting. I know we're to the one-month-to-go countdown, but thinking that I'll have this thing inside of me for another month is exhausting and overwhelming. Previously, when I would get overwhelmed thinking about how long I'd have the expander in, I'd tell myself: one day at a time. And then my thoughts move onto something else - usually filling my calendar as a way to help get through the "one day at a time."
But now, I just tell myself "one day at a time" and work on NOT overcompensating for it. Yes, it sucks. But one day it will be out. And until then, I have to take it one day at a time. Will being busy help the days go by faster, or will it make it worse? Will I be distracted from all the pain by having plans, or will I be in more pain from running around? Both. And that's why it's been such a struggle to find a balance. I've got to get through this next month in the most balanced way I can. And trust me, it isn't easy. It's still a work in progress, but that being said, I HAVE made a lot of progress.
As hard as it is, I've got to look at the big picture. But it's hard to see the future while I have the expander in. I picture myself, in the near future, with the expander and in pain. But when I picture myself months later, like when the expander will be out and I'll have my implants, it's hard to know how I'll look and feel. Will I get used to the implants? Will I be able to run without an intense pulling feeling? Will I be able to sleep on my stomach, ever? Will I have my life back?
There was one moment (maybe even just a day's time) during a very difficult part of my Leukemia treatment when I was in the hospital. I don't remember exactly where in the 3-year-battle I was, or what the problem was, but I was feeling very sick. That day I repeatedly told my mom: "I hate my life, I hate my life." And she told me: "You don't hate your life, you hate this day."
So as sick as I was feeling and as much as I couldn't see the future very clearly, my mom told me it wasn't my LIFE that was miserable; it was this DAY. And although the circumstances very vastly, I can somehow relate that lesson to how I'm feeling today. Having the expander in since May, and knowing it will be in until the end of October, makes it very, very easy to see this as my life. But it isn't. Sure, it's not this day I hate; it's the course of a few months. But the bottom line is, no matter how many days or even months I'm miserable or in pain, it's not my life.
And that's really the best I can do right now. It's exhausting and devestating (and a million other negative words) to have this expander in and to be in constant, continious pain and discomfort. It's angering. It's tiring. I hate it. I hate these months.

hello, Fall

Some of my favorite parts of the beginning of fall are the crisp, refreshing air that kind of shocks you at first, but then feels good, and getting the house ready with pumpkin spice and apple candles and air fresheners. I have recently discovered Febreze's apple spice noticeables plug-ins which are TO.DIE.FOR. They small amazing. We've got them all over the house. As soon as I discovered how much I loved them, I began looking for more. Everywhere I went: Rite Aid, K-Mart, you name it, there were none to be found! Only Febreze's spring scents, which, of course, are now a thing of the past. Finally, I was at Giant and I saw some. The ones I saw, I grabbed and threw in my cart like a crazy person who had just found the very last chocolate bars in the world. There were like 6 of them. And I bought them all. Yum, yum, yum.
My other favorite parts of fall are going to the local pumpkin patches and farms with Sean. Every year we've been together we've always gone out together to buy pumpkins, which we later carve, and also a brown bag filled with apples. When I was younger, going to farmer's markets with my family was a fall tradition. We'd go on the hay rides, look at the displays of gords and scarecrows, and I would pose in front of the biggest pumpkin there, which, apparently at the time was scary for me. (I have a picture of me on a ledge next to a large pumpkin and I look very uncomfortable.)
Another thing I remember about fall during my childhood was that my mom would always buy apple cider when we were at the farmer's market. Sometimes she's keep the fridge stocked of it for the whole season, but she always used to buy at aleast one container, and I loved that. It showed me she was celebrating the change in season, and that she cared that my brother and I got to taste the season, if you will. Because it's not always appropriate to drink apple cider. It's more fun during the right season. Kind of like how every Valentine's Day my dad would bring home, on his way from work, a cookie cake or some kind of cake to share with the family. Sure, it doesn't seem like much, but to a young girl, it was a sweet gesture. I'd look forward to that annual Valentine's Day dessert all day at school. Sometimes it was even more entertaining than pining for hours over a Valentine I'd gotten from the boy I had a crush on that year in school. The whole class had to bring Valentine's cards for everybody, so it was nothing special that I got one from my crush. I would, however, sit there later that evening and analyze his handwriting, or stray marks on the paper, to see if there was some hidden signal that showed he liked me. Like a secret heart or smiley face. I never really came to any conclusions or found any hidden signals declaring his love for me, but it was fun to dream, and I think that was the best part.
So, back to fall ...
I love the beginning of sweater and boot season because it's refreshing after a summer of heat and humidity, as much as I love summer and as much as it's my favorite season. But fall feels good. I can't wait to get our pumpkins this year, and maybe I'll bake the seeds with olive oil. Yum.
I also love that now it's not too early to pair my leggings with sweater boots on a Saturday, or wear sweater dresses out to dinner, to put on my fake fur-lined leather bomber jacket as I head out the door. And I'll temporarily retire my hot pink nailpolish (until my wedding-related parties, of course!) for some blues, purples and silvers. (And something sparkly for New Years' Eve!). And I'll trade in my light, floral scarves for thicker knits, and my flip flops for boat shoes, moccasins and loafers.
So my home is ready with smells of apple spice. My closet is ready, as you can see from the past few paragraphs. And soon we'll have our pumpkins out front!
So let's celebrate fall with our thick socks and football Sundays. I'm ready to enjoy it!

Finding balance

In previous posts I had talked about how zig-zaggy I felt about everything. I would go from zero to 100 and everywhere in between, a million times a day. Sometimes I was excited about life and sometimes I was scared and nervous. Sometimes I was anxious, sometimes I was confident. I still have those many, many emotions all the time, but now I'm learning a little more about where they're coming from. And now I'm also learning to find some balance.
Now that I have my surgery date, and the date my expander will come out (see my countdown at the bottom of the blog!), I can see the end a little more clearer. The end of this - right now - this treatment and these surgeries. Sure, breast cancer will always be something I'm worried about. I'm still terrified to do self-exams and anxious about getting breast cancer again. But with my implant surgery being a little more than a month away, I can sort my feelings a little bit better.
Before, with my mastectomy and then the skin-removing surgery, a lot was riding on the outcome. Test results would determine the next course of action. With the mastectomy in May: had it spread to the lymph nodes? Was invasive cancer found? Would chemotherapy be needed? With the re-excision in August: was more cancer found in the margin? Would radiation be needed?
Nothing is riding on this next surgery. Sure, we want it to go well. We want me to heal properly with no complications or infections. We want a good outcome. But this surgery isn't medical. There's no anxiety about results; only about the surgery itself. So before, with my first two surgeries, my anxiety and fears were concentrated in one area: the results. What would the surgery reveal? Now, since there are no "results" (well, besides new, nice breasts!), my anxiety and fears don't have a solid place to go. They are all over. Like little particles floating in the air. They are here, they are there - with doing self-exams, with recurrence or getting breast cancer in the other breast.
Having anxiety float all around my head like little free-flowing particles caused, and is causing, me to over-compensate. Make plans to pass the time until my surgery, and to keep myself busy so I don't focus on what was making me nervous. Also, part of the plan-making and guaranteeing I was always busy was a way for me to "fight back" against this breast cancer: being determined to LIVE harder and better, despite all this, not let it get me down, not let it shut me inside. But then I realized I don't need to be constantly busy to get that message across to others and myself. I could still live my life without having something to do every second of every day. I could still have fun.
Now I have always been about making plans and having and going to parties. That's my personality and it's something I enjoy. But I was over-doing it, maybe to prove something to myself. I'm not exactly sure. I always have fun when it's going on. Take last night's Martini Monday for example. The night, hosted at our house, was complete with "M" labeled napkins for the words Martini and Monday, Rat Pack music playing, the bar book opened to the dirty martini page, and guests in cocktail attire. We had a blast. I love the planning almost as much as the actual event. And that will never change. But me almost forcing myself, if you will, to constantly fill my calendar was driving me crazy. I love my nights out and coffee dates. But making too many plans only contributed to the zig-zag feeling. I was anxious and nervous about the future of my health so was trying to maybe district myself with other things. Because when I'm doing other things I am reminded that my life is somewhat normal.
Another part of me making plans all the time and trying to keep myself super busy was me trying to constantly make lemonade out of lemons. I've done that since the beginning. Since I was diagnosed. I knew, from the beginning, I wanted to use this experience to do something positive. And I believe I have. With this blog and my story on Lifetime. But more than that I was trying to "fix" the bad part about all this, and I realized today, I can't. Sure, I can live life fully. I can have fun with friends and plan my wedding and tell my story for the world to see. But I can't fix the fact I was diagnosed with breast cancer while I was planning my wedding. Or that I was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was 26. That will never change. Ever. I can make the best out of what I have - and I do, every day - but what's making me so exhausted is trying to touch this thing - this rock (as I picture it), which is what happened. The rock is not only the breast cancer but the breast cancer HAPPENING now, at this time in my life.
It's always been unfair. I try not to compare my life to others, but when I see other brides I get jealous and mad. They get to plan their weddings without breast cancer. They get to be in the happiest time of their lives without breast cancer. I'm working on that anger because I know it's something I can't control. And I know everyone has their own battles to face, and nobody's life is easy. And I know I'm lucky in so, so many ways, and even in ways other brides aren't lucky. (Take my amazing fiance, for example, and my wedding dress which knocks all the others out of the water!) But with this breast cancer: yes, life isn't fair but I'm dealing. That's been the story. But what is new to me is realizing that I am trying to turn around - to mold- this rock that can't be molded. My personality, and this isn't exactly a bad trait, has always been about trying to find the best in the worst people and trying to make the best out of the worst situation. And yes, I think I've done that here. I've managed to change what I can, and that's stuff IN my life. But I can't change this PART of my life. No matter how you slice it, it's a bad thing that happened. And for some reason I've been trying to change that by over-compensating. Going to the extreme with my parties and plans. Trying to force something to change that can't be changed.
It's interesting because I always thought I had it: it was sad that I got diagnosed with breast cancer, and especially sad that it happened when I did. But I was dealing and I was going to be OK and I was working on moving on. I thought I had it down pat. But what I didn't understand was that I was subconsciously trying to fix something that could never be touched, because if I could somehow fix this thing that already happened, I could look at my life in a new, positive light. Because when I look at my life as a whole I don't want to see the breast cancer.
Sure, I can see myself dealing with it and making the best of what I CAN touch. But it still happened.
I think if I can realize and understand that part of my zig-zaggyness and my highs and lows are trying to change something I can't, I can find a little more balance. I can still do the things I love and live MY best life, despite the circumstances and situations. But the real thing here is maybe that I haven't actually ACCEPTED that this thing that happened to me actually happened to me. And more than that, but that it can't be molded or fixed or changed, no matter how hard I try.
I'm not sure if this post makes any sense. To me it does because this is something I've discussed with my therapist (I definitely didn't come to this conclusion by myself!). I think the best way to describe it is that I'm subconsciously doing something I've always done, and it might have worked in the past. I changed bad things into good things, and if I couldn't actually change them, then I fixed or molded them a little to make them into something less bad. But this rock of breast cancer is not clay; it cannot be molded or changed. It's a rock and it's there. And I need to come to terms with that. And once I do, I'll be a little less zig-zaggy. Because the highs of my zig-zaggyness are over-compensating by making myself too busy. When I stop over-compensating the highs won't be so high and the zigs will be less all over the place. I'll be closer to finding balance.

My story on Lifetime

http://www.mylifetime.com/my-lifetime-commitment/breast-cancer/a-26-year-old-brides-mission-to-overcome-breast-cancer

I want to share my story that's featured on Lifetime's website for the movie "Five," which comes out next month in conjunction with Breast Cancer Awareness Month. It features five different women and their personal journeys dealing with breast cancer.
I was given the amazing opportunity to be interivewed by Lifetime and to share my story about my breast cancer and my wedding planning, and how I'm fitting it all together in this blog!
I had my Lifetime interview a few weeks ago, and to be honest, when I first found out my story and my blog would be featured on the Lifetime website I was ecstatic! (Ok, that's an understatement ... I actually couldn't sleep!)
I knew, when I was diagnosed, I wanted something good to come out of all of this. I wanted to share my story. I didn't want to hide. I wanted to be honest about what I was going through, no matter how disturbing, upsetting or grueling. Because I knew I wanted people to read and understand, and I wanted young women to be aware: healthy, young women - brides - get breast cancer. For me, it doesn't matter if one or one million people read my story. I just want someone to read it, and even if they don't understand, I want them to learn. I want to touch other people in a million different ways.
I can't even begin to explain what being on the Lifetime website means to me. It accomplishes, in a few mere paragraphs, everything I want to come from this breast cancer experience. I am so honored and blessed to be able to share my story with the world.
At first I was hesitant about telling other people about my breast cancer. At 26, who will really understand? But it was only a few weeks after my diagnosis that I realized: now is the time to talk. Now is not the time to hide. Now is as good a moment as any to break free from any restrictions and tell my story. Because it will help educate, inspire, encourage. Because the breast cancer has not shut me up or shut me down; instead it has opened me up. I'm going to talk. I'm going to shout. I'm going to now live harder than I ever have before.
Like I've written about in a previous post, I see all cancer fighters and survivors holding hands - holding onto all of our light and passion. We've all got each other's backs. Having this blog, and sharing my story on Lifetime, opens my hands and my grasp a little bit wider. I'm here and I'm talking.

A great moment to live in (& final surgery scheduled!)

I titled this post with an exclamation point because it's really exciting that not only am I having my final surgery, but it's scheduled!
I will be getting my dreaded expander taken out (YES!) and my implants put in (on both sides) on Oct. 27. That is a little more than a month away. In expander time that feels like 10 million years. In the big scheme of life, it is nothing!
Just like with all my other surgeries, once they're on the calendar they become real, no matter how far away. Now I can finally visualize the end of all this, whatever doubts, fears or anxieties I have stored in the back of my mind about the future and my health in the future. But with this, the end is in sight. At the end of next month I'll have my permanent implants. And once I heal from that surgery and can go on my merry way, life will have moved in a little bit, and will continue to do so each day that goes by.
Dealing with the expander becomes slightly more tolerable (notice I say "slightly") knowing that it is coming out and that it is scheduled to come out. Driving to work in pain, sleeping in pain, sneezing in pain - those things are still terrible and devestating, but if I can remind myself, as they're happening, that they are temporary, I can cope a little bit better. So that's what I'm doing. Living each day as fully as I can, but always reminding myself the thing that's keeping me from living without pain (and sometimes despair caused by that pain) is coming out soon. Things will be changing soon. So the best way to wait for those changes is to do what I've been doing: keeping busy, making plans and looking to the future.
In other news (I like saying that phrase because I often dream of myself as a news anchor with a pink skirt suit and bob haircut), today (September 15) marks a special occasion.
Today is the one year anniversary of me joining Weight Watchers. (Sean joined with me only a week or so later).
As much as I am going to sound like a commercial saying this, it's true and this is my blog so I'm going to say it anyway. The program changed my life. Since this day a year ago I've lost some 50 pounds and changed my lifestyle and eating habits. I have tracked (written down) everything I've ever eaten for the past year. (Except for a day or two following my surgeries but I think that's allowed because I got right back to it as soon as the Percocet wore off and I could think again.)
I'm so proud of myself for not only losing weight and improving my health (less migraines, no more heartburn, less stomach aches, etc.), but for changing the way I look at food and eat food. First of all, I never EVER thought I could, at the age of 26, be the same jeans size I was in high school, or that I could ever be a "thin" person. I've never been "fat," or at least I don't think so. Sometimes I considered myself average, or something curvy, but never really large. But before Weight Watchers I was unhappy with myself. I wanted to change for ME. I wasn't feeling good and it was a struggle each day to get dressed because I felt nothing looked good on me and nothing fit right. Anyway, I could go on for like 17 hours (I could be a Weight Watchers spokesperson with J. Hud!) about how I eat healthier, feel amazing, and have never once deprived myself. But I won't. You get the idea. The program was and is life-changing for me, so today I'm celebrating one year of making a huge change in my health. It's possible, that because I lost weight on Weight Watchers, I might have found my lump sooner. And I truly believe being at a healthier body weight and having better eating habits overall helped me heal faster from my surgery. I say all the time how when I was diagnosed with breast cancer I was the healthiest I'd ever been in my whole life - running marathons and eating apples. :) Thank you to Weight Watchers for that. This journey might have been a little rougher had I been 50 pounds heavier.
Sean's also lost about 50 pounds and I am so incredibly proud of him. He's gone from French fries to apples, snacks on grapes for dessert, and can run 10 miles any given day, which is "no big deal" to him. He's improved his health now, and because of this, will continue to be a healthier adult. I want him around for as long as absolutely possible (can you get to at least 100, darling?) so thank you, again, Weight Watchers. I think of us as a power couple - with our egg whites and tracking. We want to be healthy for us and for each other, and for the future, because there's a lot coming up. There are some many diseases we can't control (hi, cancer, I'm thinking of you), so why not try to prevent the ones we think we can? Diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol. Being a now two-time cancer survior I want to treat my body (as everyone should, cancer or not), like a sacred temple. I want to keep it as fine-tuned as I can. That's not to say I exercise every day, because I don't. Or that I don't drink wine, because I do. Or that I don't eat ice cream, because I do. But I've learned the meaning of moderation, and I've learned that a healthy diet overall is what's important: fresh fruit and vegetables daily, plenty of water, whole grain and whole wheat for fiber, lean meat for protein and low fat or fat-free dairy. I always eat breakfast, eat fruit first if I'm craving chocolate, drink my coffee black, have my dressing on the side, avoid anything fried, and when I have wine, order it nice and red and dry, and limit it to one glass. (I say "try!")
So, enough about Weight Watchers. (I told you I could go on forever!) Let's talk about the wedding! The countdown is at less than 200 days! That's less than 7 months but more than 6. (See the countdown at the top of my blog for an exact number.) I get so excited when I get emails from TheKnot or other wedding sites I've joined or registered at when they say, at the top of the email: "Marjorie, only xxx days to go! Time to do xxx!"
One site recently told me it was time to get my veil and shoes. Oh my! Not quite there yet, but I HAVE ordered my "after" back-up shoes, which (if worn) will be done so after the wedding ceremony, and maybe even well into the reception. They are ballet flats (via David's Bridal) but the color and other details will be kept a secret. I haven't decided yet if I'm going to get two pairs of heels in addition. I know I'll need at least one really nice pair to walk down the aisle in and have on for most of the wedding. That pair can be fancy, schmancy and high to the sky. There are no limits with that pair. Comfort not considered. But a second heel? A lower heel for when the first pair comes off but I'm not quite ready to put on ballet flats? Good idea? I think so. An in-between shoe, if you will. A lesser heel than for the ceremony, but more than the flats. Something gorgeous, of course.
The two next big steps are hiring a photographer and videographer, and ordering the invitations. (Then stuffing them.) And then, two or so months later, we'll be into the details: scheduling our tasting, picking out rings and a Ketubah, and me having my "trial run" hair appointment. And then, even littler details: the guest book, wedding programs, out-of-town gift bags. It's really, really, really coming!
These next few weeks are going to be super fun: football games, a bridal shower, a "Martini Partini" we're hosting, Sean's birthday dinner, etc. Fun plans are happening. This is good. It will keep me busy until the end of October! But I'm not only "waiting" until October; I've got to remember to live it all up. Life doesn't stop while I'm waiting. So yes, I'm counting down until my surgery, but I also want to live in this moment, because it's a great moment to live in.
Je t'aime!
Marjie

*Up top: photo from our Mary Kay makeover night!

The best of us

I have to admit, I read a lot of articles online about breast cancer: research news, treatment advacements, and possibly the most upsetting and yet inspiring, other survivor stories.
Most of the time I am outraged at what breast cancer does to people, at what these women and their families are forced to go through. I am especially outraged when I read about young women like myself dealing with breast cancer. They're in their 20s or 30s, are pregnant, or have young children, or perhaps are just starting college and aren't even married yet. Yet they have to face this debilitating illness that will maybe rob them of one or both breasts and their fertility. What outrages me the most is that there's nobody to blame. When you read about anybody getting cancer you want to be mad FOR them. You want to scream out loud for the young boy or girl who undergoes, every day, toxic treatments because they have cancer and are forced to miss school, or the families of someone who lost a loved one to cancer, or the woman with the breast cancer who doesn't have a choice but to get rid of her breasts.
With cancer there's nothing and nobody to blame. That's because it doesn't discriminate. We don't know who will get cancer, or why, or when. Most cancers we don't know how to prevent, and even the ones we do (or think we do) know how to prevent, still attack people. Innocent people. All the time. For reasons we don't understand.
That last statement has been particularly trying for me as I attempt to grasp the fact that I've had cancer twice before the age of 26. I've already talked about how life isn't fair, and I've gone through my stages at being mad at the world and coming to grips with reality. I've already established that this isn't fair and I have every right to be mad and anxious and paranoid. Over the past few months I've worked hard to reach a new level of acceptance and to actually use my experiences in a positive way, such as this blog. But what I'm having trouble with is WHY. Why to all of it. Why me, and why any of us? Why now? Why ever?
I don't think anyone will ever be able to accept cancer and what it does to us, and for me, especially, it's maddeing, really, to be mad when there's nothing in particular to be mad at.
I've gone through moments of being mad at people who have never been touched by cancer and are ignorant to its affects. And them I remind myself that not only has everyone been touched by cancer in some way, I wouldn't wish this dreaded disease on anyone.
Sometimes I get mad at doctors and scientists and researchers for not figuring out what causes cancer. And then I remember that without them, we wouldn't be alive. They save our lives, every day.
And then I get mad at the media for not talking about breast cancer in young women. But then I remember without the media, we wouldn't get to read about research, treatment advancements and other survivors. We wouldn't learn about medicine the way we do, or be able to reach out to others in the same situation as ours.
I know the real answer isn't to be mad, because even if there was someone or something to blame for breast cancer and all other cancers, would that make anything better? Of course not.
We'd still be sick and we'd still fight and we'd still cry, whether or not we've got someone to blame. The truth is, if we had something or someone to blame for cancer, we'd probably focus on blaming that thing or person and being angry at that thing or person instead of challening ourselves to possibly the toughest task of all: looking deep inside ourselves to find solace in even the most terrible times, and to use cancer - one of the most gruesome and grueling mysteries of life - to inspire ourselves and others.
I think one of my life's biggest challenges is to turn negatives into positives. We all talk about that. We all mention making lemons into lemonade. But this is deeper than that. I have to challenge myself, every single second of every day, to find the good in things, and as hard as it may be, to not be mad, because it's a waste of time and energy. I can easily pinpoint the amazing things in my life: Sean, my upcoming wedding, my AMAZING, incredible and supportive friends and family, my job (most of the time), my health (otherwise), my passion, my love. I recognize all these things. But the challenge is to not only recognize them, but to fit breast cancer into the picture somehow. Sometimes breast cancer is a part of me but not all of me. Sometimes it's all of me. Sometimes it knocks me down. Sometimes it makes me mad. Sometimes I use it to inspire and reach out to others. Sometimes it's a "bump in the road." Sometimes I feel I can move on from it. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I think it is making me stronger. Sometimes I think I don't want to have a reason to be stronger.
No matter what, it's there. It's everywhere. All over the world. Knocking down people and their families and friends. I think of cancer like a dodgeball: red and a little dirty from being hit around in the dust. I see it knocking over people, sometimes fast and sometimes slow. It's fast because you don't know it's coming. And it can be slow because sometimes you don't know it hit you. People of all ages.
But then I picture these people getting back up again because, really, they have no choice. They may be mad, like me, but then, like me, they come to the realization that there's nothing in particular to be mad at. They know that being mad is a natural reaction, but they also know that deep down inside, being mad is not what they want to be. So instead they fight, internally or externally, or both. They fight in a million different ways. Sometimes fighting means challening yourself to not be mad at something you can't control.
Sometimes these people survive cancer and sometimes they don't. But in my opinion, they're always, always getting back up again from the big hit with the red ball.
That's because there's no one way to get back up after cancer knocks you down. You do it in your own way.
So when I read about these other cancer survivors, I am allowed to be angry for them, but that shouldn't be the focus of my emotions. I should be inspired by them. If they're all getting back up, I can too. If they can do it without anger, I can too.
Yes, cancer knocks us down. It gets the best of us. By "the best of us" I mean our spirit, our light. But the wonderful thing about humans is that even though that red ball is scary and fast, humans are bigger, better, stronger. We all hope and pray that if that red ball comes towards us, or our families or friends, that it only comes once. But if it happens to come twice, or more than that, let's not be angry at it. It's just a ball. Let's focus on ourselves. Let's dust off our jeans, even if covered in dirt and holes, and get right back up.
I'll turn my anger into energy. Energy to fight on the inside and out. On the outside to heal. I'll take good care of my body so I can recover fast from my next surgery. On the inside to help this cancer find a healthy place in my mind. To use it to become a better person. To use it not to generate anger, but to generate courage and strength for others. To recognize and understand no thing or person "did this" to me or to us. Use this cancer as a chance to do something wonderful.
Another part of my daily challenge to myself is to always, always look at the bigger picture. When I look at my bigger picture I see myself marrying, and spending the rest of my life with the man I was meant to be with. I see myself surrounded by family and friends and the most amazing, loving people in the world. I see myself a little bit better from all of this.
And when I look at the bigger picture, of all those touched by cancer, I see myself holding hands with people all across the world. Like one of those paper cut-outs of people you make in elementary school, that stretches across the cafeteria. Only this time we're not paper. We're people. And we're holding onto the best of us.

Wedding wonders and wows

Although my taste in clothing and accessories has always, for as long as I can remember, been about bright, bold colors and patterns, I find myself today leaning more towards vintage, classic and elegant pieces. As I'm planning my wedding, browsing Etsy and following wedding blogs, I am finding myself falling in love with everything vintage, feminine and delicate: pink roses, pearls, mirrored vanity trays, baroque picture frames, and pale pink and rose-printed tea cups. My vision for the wedding has always centered around my most favorite color, pink, but as it develops I'm finding more and more that my style and taste, for my wedding especially, is elegant and classy. I've always pictured myself as a fun and outgoing person whose parties and clothes are colorful and creative. Although that is still very much my personality, for my wedding I picture something more romantic. More dramatic. Much of the wedding remains a surprise. Five or less people have seen my wedding dress, and I choose to keep it that way. I want to create suspense. But more than that, my dress is special and sacred. I want it to be revealed only on the most special, beautiful day of my life. I look at pictures of it at least once a week, and trust me, it's really, really hard not to show my best friends and bridal party, but I know keeping it a secret until the day of is something I want to do. Also, I decided on my wedding-day perfume many months ago, but have probably only told two or three people. It's not like anyone would ever guess it. Most people have never even heard of it, and it was incredibly hard to find. But that's what makes it amazing.
It's hard to write about the wedding, not because I don't have any material (which I do, trust me!) but because I want most of it to be a surprise. I can't reveal my dress designer or my perfume, or even what I want my hair to look like. I've revelead the colors, though, but everything else, from the flowers to the food to the decorations to the centerpieces to the favors, and even the invitations, will be a surprise.
The list of what is done or planned already is growing, while the to-do list is shrinking. Because the big stuff is done, and mostly small stuff is left, it's easier for me to picture the event as a whole, and what it looks like to me so far is exactly how I would want it to be: romantic and dramatic. It's exactly how I would picture my big day.
Although 7 months is not that far away, and I'm sure the time will fly, the wedding still seems so far off: like this big, amazing thing in the future. I try to picture myself there, in my dress, taking pictures before the ceremony. Then I try to picture myself getting ready to walk down the aisle. Then I try to picture myself at the reception. It all seems so overwhelming to picture it now, and I'm sure on the day of it will be just as overwhelming, but in a good way. In a burst with happiness type of way.
Speaking of the small stuff that's left to do, it seems like I am "discovering" new small stuff and adding to our many ongoing lists. Like: do we need a cake topper? We have to talk to the caterer, who will provide the cake, and pick out the cake first, before determining if we'll have a cake topper. And what about music that we'll each walk down the aisle to? Have we picked that out yet? We'll meet with the Rabbi and discuss it with him, and then discuss it with our band.
We have a meeting set up with the Rabbi in a few weeks to talk about the Chupah (in which our florist will meet us there to discuss decorating the Chupah and sanctuary). And I'm sure we'll go over some last minute ceremony details. We've already met with him twice so much of the ceremony is already planned out. What about a guest book?
And although the bridal party has a salon booked for the day-of hair, nails and makeup, I still need to schedule a "trial run" but to do that, need to research what type of hair style I want. I've already begun thinking about how I want my makeup to be, and luckily, I won a free Mary Kay spa package night for brides-to-be so I can experiment with some colors and styles. And I'm am bringing five girlfriends with me. I can't wait!
Like making lists are a way of live to me as breathing is, lists have helped ... tremendously. I've got a good one going, complete with a countdown and what needs to be done when on TheKnot.com, but for my own lists, I need to focus on the big and work my way to the small. Our next big project is the invitations. Though picking them out will be fun, stuffing them will take about 15 years. And we need a photographer and videographer team, which Sean's parents are working on now. And we'll need to schedule the tasting and pick the cake and the China. And I need to get my bride "stuff" for the wedding, such as my multiple pairs of shoes, veil, garter, etc. Whew. So much stuff but it's so fun!
Looking at wedding blogs and magazines has been phenomenal. I get great ideas from them, but those ideas also inspire ideas of my own. I like to be consantly "in" or a part of the wedding-planning world. I like to be surrounded by wedding magazines. I like to have wedding blog updates in my email each morning. I even have a Spark set for the word "bridal" on my Google+ so I don't miss any recent articles or trends! I really love being engaged. Strangers are always ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the ring and asking about wedding details. I never, ever get tired of talking about the wedding. There's a constant glow to being engaged and planning a wedding. Especially if you love planning things, like I do. The glow is about being in this glowly, if you will, moment (I think of warm sunsets and cute birds) where you are both in and planning for not only the happiest day of your life, but the happiest rest of your life.
I also enjoy flipping through bridal magazines JUST to see if there are any pictures of dresses by my dress designer. Sometimes there are, but I'll NEVER, EVER see a picture of my dress in a magazine, and I'd like to keep it that way. That's because it's not trendy, or what everyone else is wearing this season. It's me and it's classic.
If I'm having fun now, just wait. It can only get better as it gets closer!
As I look at my desk next to me I see a Martha Stewart weddings magazine, from 2005, that a co-worker gave me. (I love it, thank you!) Just looking at it makes me happy. All of the details are still relevant and beautiful today: signature drink ideas, the bridal bouquet, cake and appetizers. I've even been inspired by a few ideas.
I'd like to soak this all in, every day. And I think I'm doing a pretty good job of that. It's actually overwhelming to describe to you (despite my attempts in this very post) about how much thought exactly I've been putting into the wedding, whether it has to do with me and my wedding perfume, or my bridal party gifts (or survival kits I am creating), or how the bathroom at the syngogue will look, or the itineraries I'm creating in pink folders with personalized sticker labels. The list goes on and on. I love every single second of it.

A clean bill

I had two doctor's appointments today: one with my breast surgeon as the 3-month check-up. She said everything looked good and I was expected back for my next visit (in which I'll have a clinical exam, mammogram and possibly MRI) in April! April! That's like 7 months away. That's amazing. I was expecting her to tell me to come back in December. But April! April is, as we all know by now, after the wedding! So it really, really, now, officially, now feels like I am DONE with this part - the treatment.
Then I went to my plastic surgeon's office to get my very LAST saline fill. They did 50 cc's. I'd like to believe I'm a "pro" at this by now, but I'm not. It's still painful, every day. At least the specific soreness and pain that came from today's fill should lessen over the next 2-3 days, and then I'll be left with the "usual" discomfort which I am somehow, someway, learning to live with.
My next visit to Hershey is in the beginning of October where I'll meet with my plastic surgeon to go over my implant choices. Until then I have to read a brochure about the specific implants I'm getting (silicone - or as they are called in the booklet: "memory gel") and then when I meet with him I'll have all the information to make an informed decision and sign a consent. I know it's part of the procedure, and probably some sort of law, that before anything is signed the patient has to know ALL about the implants, from the procedure to the healing to the complications, etc., and trust me, there are a lot ... A LOT of possible complications. But I am not getting these just for fun. (Although it will end up being fun, I'm sure.) I'm getting them because I lost a breast to cancer, so not having implants at the age of 26 is not.an.option.
I'm prepared for the possible complications and adverse effects of them. I'm a veteran now when it comes to bad health things happening to me. But I don't look at it that way. I look at it as this really is my only choice unless I want to live the rest of my life with one breast. And I don't. I'm prepared for this implant journey because I know the outcome will be beneficial to me.
So, if we're looking at my breast cancer timeline, which really, truly began in April, here's what's left:
1 consultation
1 surgery
That's IT! (We're hoping!) I'm still in the doubt/denial/scared/terrified/paranoid stage that something else could happen (a new breast cancer in the other breast) before the time of my next appointment, but I'm also working REALLY hard not to focus on that. I feel if we could JUST get to the wedding without any more cancer diagnosis I would be OK. You wouldn't think that's too much to ask, right? For me I feel it is.
I had an exam today with my breast surgeon on my left (unaffected) breast, and even an ultrasound but they didn't find anything "suspicious." Just fibroadnoma (spelling?) areas which apparently are normal and benign and are part of fibrosistic breast changes. Also, because I'm younger my breasts are a lot more dense (less fatty) than older women so every single teeny tiny thing shows up and is felt, and of course, my first instinct is that every teeny tiny lump or bump is cancer, no matter how small the risk. But if my doctor told me not to come back until April then I'm not going back until April. She knows more than me about this stuff, after all.
I have to admit, as much as it could have saved my life, found my cancer early and positively altered my treatment and prognosis, it is absolutely TERRIFYING to continue to do self exams. I advocate them for every woman because only a woman knows her own body the best. But finding that lump last April while doing a self exam was nothing short of traumatizing. And because doing a self exam helped my case so much I vowed to myself I'd always do them. And I believe I always will. I think after having breast cancer you can't NOT make yourself do them. But it never, ever, EVER makes it less scary, no matter what your chances are of getting breast cancer again.
My biggest fear is that I'll find something before the wedding and have to go into the doctor before the April appointment. I fear they'll want to do a biopsy. And then I fear it will be something. I know those chances are low, and I know I can't run away from my fears, which in this case would mean avoiding feeling my breasts at all costs for the rest of my life. However silly or terrible it sounds, I want a "cushion" between now and the wedding. I basically just got a clean bill of health from my doctor, and my implant surgery is forthcoming. I want a stage, of just the next 6 months, where I can focus entirely on the wedding and not be in Breast Cancer Ville.
Yes, I'm relieved today's appointment went well, and I was really relieved to hear the margins were clean. And I am extremel relieved to know that my doctor doesn't want to see me until April. But now I'm scared and feel like my health lies in my hands, which I guess it kind of always has.
The hardest part is now: do I continue to do self exams every month and possibly save my own life again, G-d forbid, should something else happen? Or do I not do self exams because my mental state is well, paranoid, and I will literally freak out about every single thing I find, whether it's cause to freak out or not. I already lost many nights of sleep and had my mind wander when it's not supposed to be wandering, because I've been thinking about breast cancer in the other breast, or if what I felt was normal, etc. I literally, and I've said this before, CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS. In constant fear and worry, I mean. But I guess like I said before, that's no reason to completely avoid taking care of yourself. I think I need to challenge myself to find a place where I'm doing breast exams because they helped me tremendously once, but I'm only doing them once a month, and I'll try not to be scared when doing them, but I still think that's a far, far way off. I'll probably always, always be scared because I was the one (me) who found the first one. Yes, it was good and it could have really, really saved me. So how can I be mentally prepared to continue to do these exams when they are terrifying?
I've asked doctors and nurses what exactly to look for, and they all tell me the same thing: you're not necessarily looking for a lump or bump, but any type of change. Even though I know what the first cancer felt like, it doesn't make doing this any easier. I still don't know everything and am still scared.
So today there is no solution. I think I'll just be scared. And if something happens between now and the wedding, then something happens between now and the wedding. Like I said in a previous post, being scared or not scared isn't going to effect the outcome you can't control. What will happen will happen, and I just need to accept that I might be scared for a while, or forever.
But my breast cancer surgeries are over, pathology shows all cancer is out of me, so we can breathe. I just have one more surgery to go, which is cosmetic/reconstructive. I can definitely see the end of this more clearly now.
I got a clean bill of health today, and I'll take that and focus on that. I'll focus on that. One day at a time, right?

Wedding, wine, fragrance and fashion

I loved doing last month's wedding, wine, fragrance and fashion post which focuses on the things I love in the aspects of life I love. Thus, I have begun a monthly tradition. Here is this month's. Enjoy!

September edition

wedding.fashion.wine.fragrance.reading.coffee.
These are my melodies of life.

Coffee thing: Maxwell House
It really IS "good to the last drop." But that's not why I love it. I love it because it tastes good (nice and strong, which is how I like it), and it's consistent. You always get a good cup (or two or three) out of it, no matter what. It's always there for you, the way coffee should be.

Reading Thing: Cancer Schmancer by Fran Drescher
I've always loved Fran. I loved her in The Nanny ("Mistaaahhh Sheffffield!"), and now I love her in Happily Divorced. I love everything she stands for. She's beautiful and Jewish (those are my first two reasons! Just kidding...kinda), but she's also real. She's not afraid to be who she is, and she's honest. I know her book will inspire me.

Wine thing: Tempra Tantrum. I have to credit our friend Adam here for bringing over this wine. He has great taste, obviously, because now this wine rates right up there with Baron Herzog. So far I've only tried the Shiraz (which was PHEN.OM.EN.AL) but I can't wait to try the rest! Thank you, Mr. Duff, for bringing such joy into our home.

Fragrance thing: Vera Wang "Bouquet." I don't actually own this, but I considered it for my wedding, before, of course, I found "the one." This has gotten wonderful reviews. Do try!

Fashion thing: "I know what boys like" by Deborah Lippman. Love the color. So cute. So fall.


Wedding things: Gorgeous shoes for pre-wedding parties & pink roses! Although these won't be my wedding day shoes (via Heels.com), I am considering these, or something similar for my bachelorette party, bridal party or rehearsal dinner. They are the color pink that will be featured in the wedding, and I know I can put together a fabulous outfit with them. (Think LBD!) I ADORE these because they're very me: bright, bold and colorful. And the embellishments? OmiGawd. They look like roses to me, and after all, we'll have roses (all different shades of pink) at the wedding! Roses, similar to what we'll have at the wedding, are pictured below.





Dear friends: stay tuned for next month's wedding, wine, fragrance and fashion!

Love dearly,

Marjie

A body in motion

Yesterday I ran on the treadmill. Actually ran. With my expander. It was only for five minutes but it was running. And it was only the second time I'd done so since my breast cancer diagnosis. Like I've probably mentioned in previous posts, my plastic surgeon has not given me any physical limitations at this point. After a certain time period of having the expander, scar tissue forms around it, "locking" it in place and making it unlikely to move, so running is permitted. But considering walking and sneezing hurts me, I didn't think running would feel too good.
So to get my exercise I've been lifting weights, doing crunches, and when at the gym, either walking on the treadmill at an incline or riding the bike. But yesterday I was at the gym with Sean and I missed running. I had an urge to "break free" and let go. I had done my 25 minutes on the bike and was onto walking on the treadmill when I decided to give it a try. It was kind of like when I would forget about my expander and run up the stairs out of habit. Although, this time, I definitely didn't forget about my expander. I very much knew it was there. I just wanted my legs to feel free again. And it was quite amazing. Yes, it hurt. And it felt weird. I think I could feel the saline swishing inside of the expander and it felt tight and hard, and I almost felt like I had to hold onto it to keep it from moving. I could have gone so much longer had I not been in so much discomfort. I just wanted to run again, which I did, and it was cathartic.
I won't even call yesterday's trot on the treadmill a milestone. I'll call it "dealing" with my "new normals." Or, doing what I want, however unpleasant, despite my current situation.
I figure the only way to deal with and accept the expander for the next two months is to get used to it, as much as I possibly can. Sure, one can never get used to constant pain and discomfort. But if I am going to have this devil device inside of me until the end of October or beginning of November, I have to "live" with it. I've already been doing just that by going to work and making all of my social plans. Nothing has stopped. My outside life is the same. I do what I've always done. But running with with the expander was something I wanted to accomplish, because if I can run with it (the ultimate pain-inducing activitiy), I can deal with it.
On another note, I was at the dentist this morning for a regular cleaning, and at the end of the visit, scheduled my appointment for 6 months later. Six months later is ... March! And March is ... the month I'm getting married! That means time is actually moving along. When you start scheduling doctor's and other appointments around the time of your wedding that means your wedding is ON THE RADAR. People rarely schedule doctor's appointments a year or more out. But when they're 6 months out that means they're really coming up. Scheduling my next dental cleaning today for the month of the wedding was like reaching a new spot on the countdown. Like, my next dentist appointment will be the month of the wedding. It's really, really happening soon!

And, speaking of time moving forward, we had the first football game of the season this past weekend. We had a whole weekend of fun plans, actually! My uncle and cousin came in for the game. Friday night we had a wonderful dinner at Bonfatto's, followed by a trip to the Creamery. YUM! Then Saturday we were out of the house by 7 a.m. to begin tailgating. Our breakfast tailgate (done for noon games) was bagels, fruit, donuts and a cookie cake, which is still in the house and is still being eaten by me, despite my attempts to not eat it. After the game Saturday we went to Champs (an after-football-game-tradition) for an early dinner. Then we said goodbye to my family, and had some friends who came in for the game from Florida stay with us. We had a nice, relaxing evening of football watching, Shiraz drinking and iPhone game playing. Sunday Sean and I met some friends for coffee in the morning, then went to a friend's birthday party in the afternoon, and then at night went out to watch our friend perform in her band. It was their first gig and it was amazing! So much fun!
Then Monday, after the gym, we went out with some friends for burritos and margaritas to Mad Mex. Lots of fun plans, friends and family all weekend. And I'm ready for it to happen all over again this coming weekend!
We have friends or family coming in for every home game, so almost every weekend this fall our house is full, which is wonderful. Weekends without football are going to be filled with wedding planning, weekend trips, bridal showers and weddings. This fall, which is actually here now, is going to be full and fun, and full of fun. Maybe that will help pass the time until my implant surgery.
Even if I am having fun with friends, there is always a constant misery about living life currently with the expander in, and how unpleasant it is. But really, when it comes down to it, I have two choices. I can sit at home and "wait out" my time with the expander. I can sit on the couch because it's a lot less painful than going out with friends. Or, I can live my life how I normally would, had none of this happened. Yes, it hurts, but it's living. I can't exactly "wait away" this stage of my life, no matter how emotionally and physically painful and miserable it may be. Life doesn't get put on hold for this, and it shouldn't. True, I'm not going to push myself if I don't feel up to it, but I'm not going to waste away either. I'll do what I can as best as possible, all the time. So I think I'm learning that the best way to "live through" this is to do just that: live through it.

Not a fan of you, expander.

Many of my blog posts have been about my ongoing struggle to find hope and peace throughout this whole experience. And many of those posts do end on a positive, encouraging note, in which I feel I've learned something or come to some sort of conclusion. And while those posts do reflect my personal feelings and thoughts on a deeper, inner level, and while what I write is always 100 percent true to heart, I don't feel I've really touched on the physical pain I've felt since my mastectomy in May, and how it has impacted my life now.
I want to be honest with myself and my readers, and while what I write today may or may not change people's perceptions on how "strong" I am, I do want to write about it my actual physical pain because I feel it is a huge part of my daily struggle. Oftentimes, when I feel better or hopeful emotionally or mentally about this whole situation, it's the physical pain that weakens me and pushes me back down.

There are days when I'm literally in tears in the bathroom at work because my expander is so painful. There are days when I literally scream outloud as my 45-minute drive home from work comes to an end because my back and shoulders are twisted in pain from sitting in the same position for so long, and my seatbelt has been pushing down and putting pressure on my expander.
There are nights when I wake up in the middle of the night because I'm sick of sleeping on my back since May, and when I try to sleep on the side opposite my masctectomy side, the pressure from my expander is so intense it forces me to go back to sleeping on my back.
There are days when I get home from work and have to lay flat on my back on the floor for 15 minutes just to stretch out my neck and upper back.
I literally haven't been able to move freely, or stretch, since May. And by the time my expander is out and my silicone implants are in, it will have been about 6 months since I became this restricted, unable to move my back and shoulders, unable to stretch, unable to sleep or move without pain. Six months. SIX MONTHS. When I think about it I'm furious. Furious that for 6 months I will have not really been able to MOVE.
It's hard to explain to people the constant pain I feel from having the expander in. It literally hurts when I take deep breaths, move suddenly, sneeze. Because it's so tight I can't move freely and my neck, back and shoulders have been sore and in knots since May.
I have to constantly worry about bumping it, or someone else bumping into it for fear it will burst or get ruptured. It hurts ALL THE TIME. How can I explain to people that just moving is a constant struggle. Getting in and out of cars, carrying bags, carrying anything. It always hurts, all the time.
I don't want people to feel bad for me or treat me differently or more delicately; I simply want people to understand that it has never been easy, even 3 months after my mastectomy and even after I'm all healed up. The expander is terrible, just terrible. I know it's a safe and effective method to stretch the skin and muscle to prepare it for a permanent implant. I know the purpose of it. I know it will be good for me in the end. But it's really, really terrible.
I think people (mostly people I work with) expect me to feel "back to normal" since it's been so long since my mastectomy, and I think they are assuming that because my cuts have healed I have healed. But with the expander you are never fully "healed." Your skin is literally being stretched every day. You have a device, under your skin and muscle, that is always, always, always pulling on your body. And now that I have more feeling back in that area (after the surgery I was numb for many months), I can actually FEEL the expander. It's gross and disturbing. I can feel it bend and move under my skin and it freaks me out. I try not to touch it but sometimes it's unavoidable. Imagine having a large rock attached to your chest that bumps into you when you kneel to tie your shoe. Imaging hugging people with a rock on your chest. That's the only way I can describe it. The only thing that makes it somewhat bearable is knowing it will be out in two months. When I have my implant surgery date I will REALLY be able to rest a little easier knowing that I actually have a DATE it will be removed.
I want this thing out of me NOW.