Good times and milestones

Part of what's helped get me through these past few months, continiously, is little milestones, whether it be something I'm dreading or something I'm really looking forward to. Whether it be surgery or a party, a doctor's appointment or a friend visiting for a weekend. I always count down to these events, which have big meaning for me in one way or another. I countdown because I'm excited, and also I countdown if I dread something.
The good things, like parties and plans with friends, help move my life along. I get excited about an upcoming event or plan, and kind of centrally focus on that: what I'm going to wear, etc. And then during it, I take as many pictures as I can, so I can "re-live" the moment. Every time I look at pictures of a fun time, I am reminded of how full my life is and how great the people in it are. That's why pictures to me are so important. Sure, there's nothing remotely like living in the moment and taking it all in when experiencing something wonderful. But the pictures are there forever. They remind you of little details you may forget as years go by. They remind you of how you felt at a particular moment. So to me, pictures complete a fun time in my life. There's the event itself (the party, the wedding, a weekend of fun with a friend), but afterwards, I feel I can experience the joy all over again, and indefinitely. Pictures do that for me. They always have. I've always been a picture-person in that I'm snapping away at every possible moment. But since my breast cancer diagnosis, and since my Li Fraumeni Syndrome diagnosis, I give more power to pictures. They help remind me, on days I need it the most, that I do have a wonderful life, despite my recent health battles. That things CAN be OK, and I CAN and DO have fun and enjoy life. Sometimes I need these reminders. If I'm nervous about an upcoming doctor's appointment, or just if I'm in physical pain, looking at pictures remind me that things are OK too. That they're not all bad. That I am living life fully through all of this - something I aim to do every day.
So as good things fly by, they mark milestones. My 27th birthday. Hanukkah (our Hanukkah party and the family one in Virginia). The upcoming wedding we are attending this weekend in Philadelphia on New Years Eve. These things, which I spend so much time looking forward to and planning for, and then enjoy, come and go, reminding me that life moves on and things that I'm looking forward to ACTUALLY DO happen. (hint: this can refer to me believing my wedding will actually happen too!)
So looking forward to fun plans, and then actually having fun during them, and then looking at pictures after and re-living the moment, help life go by. I see each of these little parties and events as little polka dots in my timeline of life. Little fun, and sometimes sparkly, things. I love them. When they're over I'm not sad; I'm happy they happened, happy I enjoyed them. I'm happy that they happened. It means that life is happening, with little or no effort from me whatsoever. Meaning: it just happens. These things - these events - just happen. And I go and I love it and I'm there, in all my glory. It tells me that life HAPPENS. And that's perhaps one of the most important things I need to know. Life happens. How truly wonderful.
And the bad things. Not "bad" perse, but things I dread and am anxious about. Mostly doctor's appointments. I look at each one also as a little dot. And when they're over, another milestone accomplished. I got through this, I got through that. And I'm OK. I have various doctor's appointments every few weeks or so, though I imagine I'll have more in the future as part of my LFS monitoring. These appointments are both in State College and Hershey. They are with my obgyn, primary care doctor, plastic surgeon, oncologist, breast surgeon and dentist. All, repeatedly. There's regular check-ups, which I dread almost as much as, say, follow-ups. (My neck lump ultrasound coming up in a few weeks.) Even if there's nothing knowingly wrong, I still dread them. But that's because, well, you know. I always believe something is wrong with me, or that if I don't THINK something's wrong with me, a doctor will find something wrong with me. And understandably so. Especially with my recent LFS diagnosis, in which I have a high chance of getting cancer again. Especially after already having cancer twice. I have reason to be worried. But when I get through a doctor's appointment, I am relieved. I see it as success. That for that moment, I can move on, until I dread the next one. Getting through these appointments, which I try to mentally prepare for, are milestones for me. Sure, small ones, but milestones nonetheless. What that means to me is that, yes, I dread these appointments. But like fun plans, they, too, come and go. Meaning, I won't dread them forever. And that's definitely life happening.
So my good times are milestones, and my bad times are milestones, and my milestones are milestones. However big or small, these little dots help remind me, again and again, that life DOES keep going and the pedals on my bicycle ARE moving. This means the fun things I'm looking forward to DO happen (my bridal showers!), and the things I'm not so much looking forward to happen also, meaning they are not there for me to be anxious about forever. So I get my fun stuff, but I also get my not-so-fun stuff out of the way, to move on to other things.
I think it's good I can find milestones in every completed doctor's appointment, and that I can re-live life every time I look at pictures of a fun time. But most of all, I think it's good not only that I can force myself to keep going and keep moving and keep living, but that life, IN ITSELF, does that too.

I'm on Bloglovin now!

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Had to do this to claim my blog. But if you're on Bloglovin, please follow me! :)

Much love,

Marjie

Marjie & Sean do Hanukkah! {pics from our party 12-20-11}

Friends, fun & food!

Happy Hanukkah!

A little shaken, but still alright

Life is a funny thing. Though the fault of nobody, I got the results of my genetic mutation tissue test last night, on my birthday. I knew they were coming any day now. And I knew, as soon as my genetic counselor received them she would call me, because she's great like that. She knew we were waiting. And we were. But with nearly weeks of no talking about Li Fraumeni Syndrome and cancers, I was in a different place. I was enjoying Hanukkah and my birthday and the wedding planning. But *BAM* There it is AGAIN. Something to crush my spirit - hopefully temporarily. But it's always something.
I said to Sean last night: "Is this it? Is this all they can tell us? Are we waiting for any more results?" Because honestly, as soon as I'm "happy" again or beginning to move on, or at least trying to move on, we hear other news, other test results. BUT, in all fairness, we were expecting this. We were first expecting the first results, if I had the mutation at all or not. Then we were expecting my mom's results, from when she got tested. When her test came back negative about two weeks ago I was ecstatic, thinking maybe I didn't have the mutation everywhere. Maybe it was just in my blood, and NOT in my breast tissue.
But, of course, life is a funny thing and it works in funny ways. Last night my genetic counselor called to tell me the mutation was found in both my healthy breast tissue, and the tumor tissue (taken from my mastectomy on May).
Having even a mosaic (in some cells, but not all) form of Li Fraumeni Syndrome significantly increases cancer risk and alters your life. There's endless and in-depth screenings and tests. For life. But if the mutation HADN'T been in my breast tissue, I could maybe, JUST MAYBE have lived with the other breast for two or three years. We would have kids, and THEN I would get a mastectomy. But now, knowing the mutation is in my tissue, and at any moment can form another tumor in my healthy breast (whether that's how it works or not, but that's how I picture it), I want my mastectomy sooner. I don't want to live with the risk, and even moreso, the anxiety. I don't want to live with the high-risk screenings of self exams every month, mixed in with MRIs alternated with mammograms every six months. I don't want to wait for results from those tests, and think that I find a lump every time I do an exam, or WONDER if a lump is benign or not when a spot shows up on a mammogram or MRI. I don't want to live like that. So, scratch the whole kids thing right after marriage. (Life sucks, doesn't it? Because I wanted that.) Scratch that, and insert, instead, a left prophylactic mastectomy. After the honeymoon. So, late June, early July time frame. Six months. I can do that. Barely, but I can.
There's no peace of mind until the other breast is gone. I can talk with my therapist, talk with my family, talk with my friends, talk in this blog. I can talk and try to achieve some peace of mind. But the fact is that there's a mutation IN MY BREAST TISSUE and I have one breast left. GET RID OF IT.
This also opens up many other doors I wish would have stayed closed, like the higher chance this could be passed onto my children, and the fact that since this mutation is in my breast tissue, it is in ALL my tissue all over my body.
When I was diagnosed with LFS my world undoubtly changed. I knew health issues would be a part of my life forever. I knew I'd always be screened and scared and screened. But when there was a glimmer of hope the mutation wasn't in my tissue, I was managing. I held onto that, thinking it was just a fluke that I got breast cancer, that the mutation was only in my blood, and that while my chances of getting another cancer were high, they were less high than if the mutation was also in my tissue. I really had that hope. I had that belief. I was aiming for that. I almost believed it. But now, I am devestated all over again and must force myself, again, to "come out" of this whole, to come out of this slump. This little ditch. I'll have to think, again, how this affects my life, in a different way now. Not all that different, but definitely different.
That my plan for 2012 is get married, go on a honeymoon, have a mastectomy. That having kids is this whole huge, big and possibly expensive and worrisome ordeal. That my chance of cancer is HIGH.
What hasn't changed between yesterday, before I got that call, and now? I'm still going to live with the attitude that I can't control getting cancer but I CAN live my life the best way I know how, I CAN get screenings and tests, and I CAN control how I handle what happens to me.
And that's what I'm going with now.
Despite that, my birthday was amazing yesterday! I am now a thriving 27-year-old! Sean brought me two dozen BEAUTIFUL red roses, and got me my favorite dinner, which is (though simple, but always yummy) veggie sushi with brown rice. And I got SO many beautiful, amazing birthday wishes from friends and family! Thanks to everyone who helped make my day a special one!
Tonight one of my best friends, and bridesmaids - Jordanna - comes to visit for the weekend! I am so excited to spend time with her and show her State College, and to have a very Jewish Christmas Eve with her tomorrow night, consisting of a night at the movies and a Chinese food dinner! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!
Happy 24th birthday today to my amazing brother, Drew! Happy fourth night of Hanukkah! And happy 99 days until me and Sean TIE THAT KNOT!

Happy birthday to ... ME!

Hi everyone!
Just a quick post for today, my 27th birthday, and also the 100-day mark from our wedding!
I've had so many birthday wishes already, including a midnight text from my brother! Thanks, Drew!
Other highlights, thus far, include my free birthday Starbucks coffee, and me decked out in my favorite designer, Betsey Johnson! I wear her a lot, but don't usually go all out unless it's a special occasion. My friends and family have been generous over the past few months and because of them I have plenty of Betsey items to wear. Today I'm wearing Betsey earrings, bracelet, socks and perfume! It may sound both silly and materialistic, but wearing Betsey makes me happy. I admire her for her bold, feminine style, and also because she's a breast cancer survivor. She's taken her experience with breast cancer and used that strength to raise money and awareness, through both her fashion and charities.
Thanks to everyone for all the happy birthday greetings today!
So, here's to ME on my birthday (and everyone else who's celebrating today), the third night of Hanukkah, my brother's birthday tomorrow, and 100 days TODAY from our wedding! Another year has gone by, and my, oh my, has it been an eventful one.

*Picture: me and Sean on the first night of Hanukkah! 12/20/11
More pics from our Hanukkah party to come later!

Get up, dress up and show up

One of my new favorite quotes, that I discovered a few days ago, reads: "No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up."
I find that to be my current mantra for many things.
Despite how I feel on the inside or outside, I force myself to keep on keeping on. I have found, that living life in full, no matter how I feel on the inside or outside, increases my quality of life. Doing things helps put other stuff in perspective. Living life and having fun makes me realize, each day, that there is so much more to life than what I've been through medically the past few months. It also reminds me of the life I have and the people in it will get me through anything that comes my way. It takes my breast cancer and Li Fraumeni Syndrome, and physical pain, and puts it away a little bit. It makes it smaller. It puts it in a box. It takes, what normally is a huge rock or cloud, and shrinks it a little. Makes it less scary. Despite my many attempts not to, I give SO much energy to the breast cancer, future of my health, and my worries and anxieties. They get so much attention. But when I live my life and keep my plans and make new plans and surround myself with the people and things I love, I give more energy to the good, and less to the bad.
I still have pain. I still have worry. I still have anxiety. And sometimes, I still feel that none of those three things have improved at all within the last few weeks. But I make sure to keep making plans and to participate in what I have already planned, whether it's work or parties.
I have also learned, that despite my worrying that I won't enjoy an upcoming event BECAUSE of my worries, anxieties and pain, that I actually DO. I enjoy things fully, even if I think I won't. Does that make sense? I had always worried, since my diagnosis, that the breast cancer and everything that came with it, would rob me of these fun, meaningful, once-in-a-lifetime moments that come with planning and preparing for a wedding. That I would miss out. That my worries would take away from my fun. That I wouldn't be able to fully concentrate, or enjoy, or engulf all the wedding planning and pre-wedding fun BECAUSE of the breast cancer and the Li Fraumeni Syndrome. But I always do, and I always have. I don't know if it's just me being me or life being life or if I am really, really trying hard to NOT let my health take over everything. Either way, the good shines through the bad, and I enjoy every moment as fully as I think I would, had I not been on this breast cancer journey.
My three bridal showers were the most amazing, memorable moments of my life. And take yesterday's Hanukkah party. Sean and I had wanted to host our own Hanukkah party since last year. And last night we did it, and it was incredible. About eight of our friends came over. We made latkes, lit the menorah and played dreidel. Our friends brought amazing, yummy goodies, like peanut butter and jelly cupcakes, persimmon bread, cheese from Wisconsin, donuts and other treats. It was the PERFECT first Hanukkah party for me and Sean. Just perfect. Friends and fun and food and cheer. Everything Hanukkah is supposed to be.
This always goes back to me trying to picture my life now had I not had breast cancer. I always wonder if I would have had more fun in my "other life." If the wedding planning would be better. I've touched on this topic many times in my blog, mostly because it keeps coming back to me. But I've figured out, that while yes, some things ARE different now in a bad way (the actual physical pain I feel, and the worry about getting cancer again and getting another mastectomy), many things are different in a good way, and that's I think I may enjoy life more and treasure and cherish every moment.
I know it's not productive for me to picture my life had I not had breast cancer. Even if I find good in the situation. That's because it's not the case. I DID get breast cancer, and it DID happen while planning my wedding. And I DO have pain and worry and anxieties. So much more so than if I didn't have cancer twice or Li Fraumeni Syndrome. These things are true. But, they are what they are. I could picture me and Sean hosting our Hanukkah party if I never had breast cancer. I'm not sure what would be different except the fact that I wouldn't have pain. So, I have pain. It's not fun. But I have it. I'm still healing from surgery.
But I guess the most important thing is that I'm getting uo, dressing up and showing up. To everything, every day. Sometimes there's crying and yelling beforehand. Sometimes there's a panic attack. But I have to, HAVE TO, keep doing it. Why? Because the alternative is not good. Doing nothing. Not good. And why else? Because I have learned, and now KNOW, that living my life, despite how I feel physically and emotionally, HELPS ME. It helps put my worries and pain in perspective. It takes away their power. It takes the breast cancer and health worries and pushes them to the side. And in their place puts in the aspects of life I cherish and enjoy: friends, family, parties and planning my wedding. And the more the good aspects of my life dominate, the more hope I get. The more I want to keep on keeping on. Because I realize, with each good part of life, that I do have a good life. Not all of it is good, but most of it is. Like 99 percent. And, sure, it takes some effort to remind myself of that. And sure, I have to KEEP reminding myself of that.
101 days until the wedding. A little more than three months. I'm wondering ... when will it feel REAL?! One month until? One day? I still can't picture it. This big, amazing thing we've been planning since February. My dress is in. The invitations are sitting in our kitchen, next to our Ketubah. Our wedding bands are picked out and ordered, and a deposit has been put in. My bachelorette weekend, something I've literally been excited about since August, is coming up in only a few short weeks. This.is.really.happening.
I guess I thought, by now, it would be easier to see it all ahead of me. I thought most of my worries about getting breast cancer again BEFORE the wedding would be gone, especially after my last ultrasound in October, the day before my reconstructive surgery. But I guess it's not that easy, or that simple. I guess I'll have worries all the time. Until the day of the wedding, and every day after. They don't just go away. I'm not sure why I thought they did.
But the important thing is that I'm still moving on and moving forward. I haven't stopped, and don't plan to. And one day, I'll write a blog post, and I'll say it's 50 days until the wedding. And I'll ask myself: does it feel real yet? And what will I say? Will it ever feel real? I think, breast cancer or no breast cancer, LFS or not, it won't feel real. Or maybe it doesn't feel real BECAUSE of those very things - this journey I've been on the last few months. But I don't know. I don't know about the "old me," the me that didn't go through this. I can't picture it. I can't even try to. And that's because that's not my life. It's definitely not my life. THIS is my life. It's not always fair or easy, but I'm doing it. I'm doing MY life. I'm doing THIS life. I guess what's funny is that I didn't realize it. I kept thinking I hadn't gotten to living THIS life yet. This life, as a breast cancer survivor. That's because I kept trying to imagine my other life. But that life doesn't exist. THIS is the one that exists, and I know, deep down inside, that this is the only one I want, and this is the best one there is, despite the terrible things that have happened in it. THIS is me. There is no OTHER me. It's time to understand that, in full.
Or maybe I already knew, but didn't realize I already knew. Maybe that's why, every day, I get up, dress up and show up. Because I know I have no other choice. It's simple really, and sounds silly, but the only way to live THIS life is to keep living it. And part of that whole process is both knowing you're living it, and not knowing you're living it. But I guess, if I look at my life now, at the end of December, with my 27th birthday tomorrow, and look back to April, which seems worlds away and yet like it was only yesterday, I HAVE been living THIS life. A whirlpool of a life. But it's mine, and it's time for me to stop imagining another life. Not only is this one just fine, it's amazing.
So why "no matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up?" Because that's how you move. And perhaps the scariest thing in life is living a life that doesn't change, and being a person that doesn't grow.
Sometimes I feel that while I'm moving at a snail's pace in terms of healing physically and emotionally, my world around me is moving very, very fast. I've had to deal with a lot these past few months. I've had to fight breast cancer, prepare and heal from three surgeries, learn I have Li Fraumeni Syndrome and somehow "deal" with that news and how it will change my life, all the while planning my wedding and keeping up with what makes me ME, and what makes my life tick. (and this is not to mention the literal emotional rollercoaster I'm on every day.) All of that is fast. We're only a week away from 2012. A new year. The year I'll get married. My 27th year of life.
Ironically, my birthday tomorrow also is the 100-day mark of the wedding. Two very important things in one day. So how can life move so slowly, yet so fast? How can I feel like a snail in the middle of a whirlpool?
I could easily see myself, as a snail, drowning in a fast-moving whirlpool. Swishing, dangerous waters. And little me, tiny and frail and slow. But if I look a little bit harder, that's not the case at all. This snail is surviving. Swimming. And, somehow, someway, thriving. Even if just a little. (Do snails swim?)
Anyway, I could be a million different animals or insects, and my world could metaphorically be any natural force on earth. But I'm fine being a snail and I'm fine living in a whirlpool. Because this is my life now, and this is how it is. So I better enjoy it. Because frankly, it doesn't get much better than this. This, my friends, is an experience. A fast, slow, scary, happy, terrifying, enjoyable, hopeful, depressing, inspiring, devestating, blessed experience. It's called life.
Like it or not, GET UP. DRESS UP. SHOW UP. This is it.

My Hanukkah column 2011

Holiday brings new year of stories
December 16, 2011
Lewistown Sentinel

In the past two years in my Hanukkah columns, I've written about how although the holiday brings many familiarities, it means something different to me each year.
Now, more than ever, is that true. As Hanukkah approaches Dec. 20, I am forced to reflect back in this past year's events, what they mean to me now, and how they'll help shape my future.
At the age of 26 I got engaged, but I also fought breast cancer. I planned my wedding, but also underwent three surgeries.
This year has been, and is, the best year of my life. But it also has been the most challenging, stressful and devastating.
When I think back to Hanukkah last year, I feel like I'm looking into a small window at a different person in a different life in a different world. Sure, back then my life wasn't untouched by hardships. But it was untouched by breast cancer. And although I was with my now fiancee back then, we weren't engaged, and weren't planning our wedding.
Now, in the midst of China patterns and thank-you notes, I am a glowing bride-to-be. We've had numerous engagement parties and bridal showers. I never thought I could be this happy. Every moment has been a delicate, memorable experience, from choosing our flower arrangements to me trying on my veil. But in the middle of my happy moments, I've been dealing with the physical, emotional and mental aspects of a breast cancer diagnosis.
It seemed ironic to me that at the highest point and the healthiest time in my life, I would get cancer. I had just started running 5Ks, and wore the same jeans size I wore in high school. But my very own planet Earth, swirling joyously and carefree in space, came to an abrupt, dust-in-the-air, halt. And silence. I felt like I was waiting in a dark room, paralyzed by fear and shock, unable to move, unable to see the next step, unable to see any sort of light. That was April.
And then what?
Do we move forward with planning the wedding, or do we wonder if we're having the wedding? Do we imagine what kind of treatments I'll have? What do we do? What do we think? What do we say?
When I think back at those months that followed I have a hard time believing I went through it all. Now, it's December, and I'm starting to think about our annual family Hanukkah party, and the party my fiancee, Sean, and I will throw at our home, for the first time, in which I will actually be making latkes! (A sight to see, I'm sure.)
In no way are my health issues over, especially after recently learning that I carry a rare genetic mutation that makes me susceptible to cancer. But with three surgeries later and a "clean bill of health," I can say that this specific breast cancer journey is behind me.
It's amazing that my journey was so short - about six months in total. But that doesn't take into account the lifetime I still face of mammograms, MRIs and ultrasounds, and the fear of recurrence, or getting another new breast cancer.
In no way was my journey emotionally short, though; each day felt like a year as we waited for test results, surgeries, more tests and more test results. Time moved at a snail's pace. And why wouldn't it? I was waiting to hear, every day, how my life would change.
Waiting was excruciating, and it made the last six months feel like six decades. But I was lucky in the fact that my cancer was caught so early that I didn't need chemotherapy or radiation. When I say my journey was "short," I am thinking about the many women who face breast cancer for years. No two diagnoses and situations are alike, and no two treatment plans are alike. I was, and am lucky, in that my cancer was treated and today I am able to get back to life.
So what makes Hanukkah this year?
I've always been an optimistic person. Fighting my first cancer (funny how it became my "first" cancer) at age 12 did that to me. I became strong, and decided I wanted to enjoy every moment of life.
So while breast cancer didn't "make" me a better or stronger person, because I believe I was strong before, it gave me something else. That's not to say I don't have my moments. Especially the past few months. I've had the crying and screaming and case of the "why me?"s. I've been mad at the world and called it unfair. I've compared my life to others and wondered why other women my age got to be healthy. And trust me, I still have those moments. But I decided, from the moment I got diagnosed, that I was going to turn this situation into something better.
Although I couldn't control getting cancer, I could control how I handled it and how I lived my life. I started a blog. I gave an interview on the Lifetime website for the movie "Five." I decided to raise awareness of breast cancer in young women. I decided to give money to research and resources. I decided I would tell my story because I didn't want to hide it.
This experience has taught me that I have some incredible people in my life. My family and friends have reached out and supported me in ways I could have never imagined. And my amazing fiancee, Sean, has stood by my side, from the time I told him I found a lump, to the day my doctor called me at 8:30 in the morning on a warm April morning to tell me the news. From the debilitating pain of having a tissue expander under my chest wall, to the preparation and recovery from my surgeries. To today.
In previous years, Hanukkah has always been about celebrating family, friends, food and life. It's about our crazy family traditions and reflections on yet another year gone by.
This year I'll plan my outfit weeks ahead of time, like I always do. I'll save my Weight Watchers points so I can "nosh" (Yiddush for "snack") on latkes and chocolate. I'll look forward to hugging and kissing my family. I'll try to imagine what gifts I'll take home from the gift game - socks or hot chocolate? We'll sing around the piano our traditional Hanukkah songs, and light the many Menorahs all at once. We'll look on with awe as the candles burn bright and we remember who we are as a people and why Judaism is so meaningful to us.
Today I look to this holiday with hope and inspiration. This year, I'm blessed. This year I'll be me. Sure, a new me, a changed me. But me. I'm still here and I'm doing just fine.
Hanukkah, and all that's associated with it, is my soft pink pillow, that even through life's scary thunderstorms, remains soft.
And I'm a tree. In the rain I get soft and peel. In the wind I sway, and maybe even fall over. In the lighting I split in half. But the sun always comes out again, and the seasons always change, and I'm still standing.
During Hanukkah this year, I'll be my tree, with my soft pink pillow beside me, resting atop my roots, lodged deep in the ground.
Thank you for opening your minds and hearts to my experiences. Happy holidays, and L'Chaim! (To life!)

Marjorie Stromberg is the health and human services reporter for The Sentinel.

The direct link:

http://lewistownsentinel.com/page/content.detail/id/532436/Holiday-brings-new-year-of-stories.html

My story on the PA Breast Cancer Coalition's blog!

Hi everyone,
I am so honored to be featured as one of two survivor story winners for the Pennsylvania Breast Cancer Coalition's September Pink Link Contest!

Please read my story and pass it along!

Thank you SO much to the PA Breast Cancer Coalition for this opportunity to share my story, and for all they do for women, and their families, dealing with breast cancer in Pennsylvania. I am so excited to get this opportunity!

https://www.pabreastcancer.org/blog/2011/12/stromberg-survivor?utm_source=pinklink&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=pinklink

https://www.pabreastcancer.org/

Finding me in my taffy: a look at eyelashes and the Mikvah

Since my diagnosis I've been twisting and pulling this recent situation (me getting breast cancer while planning my wedding) in a million different directions, trying, as hard as I possibly can, to find the good in it, whether it's one thing or 10. And I HAVE found good in all this. Many things, actually. It was hard for me to accept the fact that I had to plan my wedding while going through all this. I didn't just want to "settle" on that it was unfair. That's why I pulled and twisted, like a piece of taffy (or like Gumby slightly melted), trying to form any new way of thinking I possibly could. Look at it this way and that way. Under this light, under that light. From this perspective, from that. And like I said, I did find MANY good things that came out of this situation. Finding the good in bad situations is what keeps us going. It's what keeps us fighting, surviving. Without it, we succumb to life's every disapointment and devestation. If we don't look for the good in the bad then we lose control and sight of who we are and why we're here. We let the bad things in life not only knock us down, but keep us there.
So, as much as I twisted and pulled, and turned into knots this now nearly palpable situation, it always came back to one thing: this sucks. That doesn't mean that I don't try, every day, to find the good in life, and actually FIND it, or that I, for one second, give up living my life. But there's no escaping it. It's not fair and it sucks. But speaking to a good friend and co-worker yesterday, I realized, there are ways I haven't yet tried to twist and turn my taffy.
She brought new light to my situation. I had already figured out that this breast cancer diagnosis while planning my wedding was going to make me stronger, and make my relationship with Sean stronger. It was going to bring our families even closer together. It was going to bring our friends even closer together. As terrible as a thing breast cancer is, I knew fighting it together (the disease and its impact on us emotionally and mentally) was going to create a new, special strength between me and Sean. It would give us new meaning, new power, new life. I would never wish this upon myself, even now, but now that it's happened, I have to believe I will somehow benefit from it. And those are the ways I believe I will.
I also knew that fighting breast cancer while planning the wedding would make the wedding a bigger, more meaningful celebration in the end. As big as weddings already are, and as much as a celebration as it already IS to be getting married, this fight and this journey would give us all more reason to celebrate our marriage. We would celebrate all the things we would have, had none of this happened, like the merging of two families and two souls for life. But now, we'll be celebrating all that, and more. That we fought together. Heartache and tears. All of us. Me and Sean. Our families and friends. We've all been in this together since the very beginning. And we got through it. And we'll continue to get through it. The breast cancer (and everything that came with) taught us to survive and thrive in ways we never imagined we'd have to.
On that note, my friend brought up something she said she's noticed in me over the past few months while I'm planning my wedding, and that's that I'm going to go all out, so to speak. Meaning I'm doing things I might not be doing had I not fought breast cancer over the past few months. At first I had to think about what things I'm going "all out" in. I had always, from day one, known what type of flowers I'd want, the colors of the wedding, and what I wanted my dress and hair to look like. But would I even be CONSIDERING getting eyelash extensions? No. Absolutely not. The eyelash extensions are my "extravagant" detail for the wedding. They are my little personal thing. My personal detail, that, no matter how silly or stupid it sounds, is being done for ME. Because I want to try it. Because it's a little ridiculous. But now is the time to be ridiculous. This is my big moment.
And the Mikvah. Something I'm also considering going to, but probably wouldn't had I not been through this. The Mikvah is part of Jewish tradition. It is basically a body of water, built into the ground (usually at the bottom of synagogues) where women go, privately, for many different reasons. One reason is to "cleanse" themselves, so it can be done before getting married or having children. Some Orthodox women go every month. Anyway, there's a lot more to it, but I don't know much yet, so I've been reading about it online, and I also have a book my friend sent me in the mail describing the history behind the Mikvah, its meanings and traditions, uses, etc. Anyway, my reason to go isn't necessarily to "cleanse" myself before entering marriage. It would be to prepare myself for a new chapter, and furthermore, to bring me closer to G-d during this very meaningful time in my life. I'm looking for a spiritual connection and meaning. I'm not really that religious of a person (most holidays I celebrate with food and presents, you see), which is why I think people may be confused about why I want to go. But one of the most wonderful things about Judaism is that you can practice how you wish, and for the most part, tailor your practice to your own personal needs, feelings and desires. As I'm getting ready to get married (the biggest life step I've ever taken), I want to look to G-d and feel connected, especially after going through this battle. I don't want answers or clarification. I want to just feel connected to G-d as I leave one chapter of my life and enter another. I do pray, in my own personal way, and Judaism has been an important part of my life. Growing up I was surrounded by it. The food, the culture, the family. I love all of it, every single detail. And I feel going to the Mikvah kind of fits into this big life step. It kind of ties it all together. Me, as a Jewish woman, preparing to get married, who just overcome cancer (again.) I feel it will connect me, even more, to the things in life I hold most dear and find most important. Part of that is my faith, and how it ties into getting married and living a Jewish life with Sean and raising a Jewish family.
I'm sure there are other things I'm going (little personal things) for the wedding I may not be doing had I not just fought breast cancer. I can even think of a few now, but I can't say because they must remain a surprise!
It's just so hard to picture how I'd be now, three months to the wedding, had I not been through all this. I'm sure most of the wedding would be the same. The large aspects of it. But maybe the little details, or things I'm doing mostly for me personally, might not be. (Extended eyelashes and a trip to the Mikvah). Maybe I'm going "all out" with little things that will make the day (and me) feel more special, because it is my special day after all. And these little things seem to be the ones maybe only I'll notice. And that's really the beauty of it all. Unless I tell people, nobody will KNOW I went to the Mikvah. But I'll know I did it, and I'll know why, and I'll feel good because of it, because I reached a new level of spirituality for this big moment in my life. So maybe, yes, it's the little things. Things that seem excessive to maybe the "old me," which is someone I really can't picture now. Just like I can't picture the me who never had Leukemia as a child.
Some things that happen to us are bad and they cause our worlds to collapse. But we are who we are because of them. As terrible as this breast cancer journey has been, I like the "new me," the breast cancer survivor-me, better than the "old me." I like me now. And as beautiful as the wedding would have been had I not had breast cancer while planning it, I like the way it's shaping up now. The little details, mostly for me, I wouldn't have thought about before. The breast cancer made all of this hard. There's no doubting that or escaping it, or even twisting it just a little. But what about the good it's done? Just like some people teach themselves to love life more or live better after a near-death experience or illness, maybe I'm doing something like that with the wedding. I've always appreciated everything in life. I've always appreciated every single moment of being engaged and planning the wedding. And I know I will love every second of the wedding, and my married life after. Even if only I know it, maybe certain things about the wedding will be more meaningful to me because I've made them that way. BECAUSE I've fought breast cancer and found a different way to look at life and love and marriage and weddings. Because maybe, just maybe, I've found ME a little bit more.

Pain.

Pain. Such a simple, four-letter word. Yet it is huge. It is so much bigger than four letters. Pain has been one of the main factors in my breast cancer journey. Sure, there's worrying and anxietities and the emotional and mental toll cancer has had on me. The waiting and wondering and stress of decisions. The fear. The paralyzing fear. Those things, though they have a huge and constant impact on my life, are being worked on. Meaning I am talking about my fears and anxieties. I'm seeing a professional. I'm working on getting through these feelings. Yes, it could take years. But I'm working on them. And there's always hope that I can get THROUGH them with the love, care and support of my fiancee, family and friends. But pain. Pain is the one thing that I feel completely helpless about.
While it's true I have a LOT less than now with the implants than I did with the expander, I still have pain. Not debilitating, like before. Driving is more comfortable. Sleeping is better. Wearing bags and purses feels better. Hugging doesn't hurt as much. All of those things have improved with the removal of my expander. But I guess I expected something more, and sooner, when it comes to pain relief. My plastic surgeon told me it could be MONTHS until I feel like myself again. I have to remember I'm just now getting to the two-month mark from my implant surgery. And yes, the pain IS better. But in no way is it gone, or even close to being gone. Bras still hurt. Even sports bras. Stretching still hurts. Bending over still hurts. Sleeping in some positions still hurts. I still have a tight, pulling feeling on my right side, where the expander was. Both sides still get "pangs" of pain that last a few seconds. But it's mostly the tight feeling that bothers me. Lifting my arm up, standing up after sitting for a long period of time. Sneezing. Sneezing STILL bothers me.
I don't expect instant relief or results. That's not how surgery works. I guess I expected, with the implant surgery, to one day just feel completely better. But like with all things, it doesn't work that way. Especially surgery. I guess relief from this (complete relief) will come slowly. It's not like one day I will just feel amazing. The pain will creep away slowly over the next few months. Things will still hurt as I work my way back into physical activity. Running at the gym, lifting weights, dancing at weddings. Things will just hurt for a while. But I have to remember my body is still getting used to two foreign objects lodged beneath my chest wall. Sure, they are squishy objects, but they are still foreign. My body has to adapt to them. I have to adapt to them. And getting breast implants after a mastectomy is nothing like getting them with actual breasts still there. While it's true my right side had plenty of time to stretch out and make room for the implant through months of having the expander, it still has to get used to having an implant there. There's no tissue there. My plastic surgeon described it like the expander had created a "pocket" so the implant on that side would kind of settle almost immediately, and would feel more comfortable than the other side. That was true in the beginning. Right after my surgery it was the left side that hurt a lot. But now, the left side seems to be doing OK, and the right side still hurts. It's still tight and pulling and uncomfortable.
So the pain is something I feel I can't control. I stretch every day. But really, there's nothing else I can do except wait, and try to believe one day it WILL feel OK. I also have to believe that the OK feeling won't come "one day." It will come over a long period of time. I won't just all of a sudden notice it; I'll become acustomed to the actual "healing" process of it still hurting every day, and hopefully getting a little better each day.
My body has gone through a lot of trauma between May and now. I have to give it time to heal. I have to be patient. It's just hard because the pain reminds of every day I'm not quite "there" yet. Though now, the difference is, there's no rush to get "there." There are no more surgeries scheduled. Now I just let time runs its course. It can only get better. There's nothing left to do.
It's just frustrating to not feel 100 percent yet. And to want to feel 100 percent after so many months of not. I want to be able to put this behind me. As Dory says in Finding Nemo: "just keep swimming."
And my all-time favorite, via Albert Einstein: "Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving."
I can say I've "kept moving" throughout this whole process, pain and all. And it's hard. But I need to constantly remind myself it won't always be hard. A time will come when I won't have pain. I'm not sure when that will be, and honestly, I hate waiting for it and am extremely frustrated by it. I am angered that I'm forced to always think about it because now, there's no escaping it. Pain still comes with each move I make. And it's funny, because no matter how long it lasts or how long you have it for, you never, ever get used to pain.

Step 1: make a list

No. 1 on my list: Make a list

I just discovered today that the wedding planning and pre-wedding "period" of life has entered, officially, a new gear. A higher gear. We're moving faster and things are happening. More things. More happening.
Just yesterday our Ketubah came in. I'm in the midst of writing thank you notes from bridal showers #2 and #3. We're getting gifts in the mail, every day. My wedding dress came in last week and I scheduled my first fitting. Our tasting is scheduled with the caterer. The invitations are ordered, and according to Sean's email, they are en route to our very house as we speak! Our favors have been ordered. To my knowledge most of the groomsmen have been fitted for, and ordered their tuxes.
I've had three bridal showers and am now waiting for my bachelorette weekend next month. After that is two aufrufs.
Now, of course, most of the "big stuff" has been done already for the wedding, save actually sending the invitations, getting them back, and then doing the seating arrangements. But there's still little odds and ends, which probably won't be done for a while, and don't need to be, like, say, the guest book for the wedding, a possible cake topper, and little other things I can't really talk about. But I've been collecting and putting together my bridal party gifts and survival kits for months now, and am nearly ready to send out an itinerary to my bridal party. And then there's things I THINK we did but can't remember if we did, like, did we finalize the menu for the rehearsal dinner? The venue is booked, but did we do the menu yet? Do we need more rooms in our block at the hotel? What about Sunday brunch? Is that squared away? Is our florist taking care of the table numbers? What are we doing for place cards?
So, I resort to one of my favorite coping and getting-things-done- mechanisms: a list. After speaking with my therapist today, I realized I am slightly more overwhelmed than I first thought, and making a list seems like the appropriate thing to do right now. So, first thing on my list? Make a list.
Done.
I actually LOVE making lists, and this should come as no surprise to anyone. Lists are my way of turning chaos into controlled chaos, of turning little floating particles of to-do's to DONE, and finding a place for my craziness in little slots on a piece of paper. I also love itineraries. Not that I'm so anal I need to plan out every detail of every day, but I like having certain things planned and I like to know what I'm doing, who I'm seeing, and, of course, what I should be wearing.
Every item has a box next to it, to be checked off as it gets done. But, there aren't just wedding to-do's on this list. There's also all the holiday and birthday stuff that has kind of crept up on me, like Hanukkah and birthday gifts for my brother, finishing my thank you notes from my last two bridal showers, making my next eyebrow waxing appointment (yes, everything goes on the list), sending out holiday cards, getting ready for the Hanukkah party I'm hosting and actually COOKING for, buying a strapless bra for a friend's New Years' Eve wedding, where I'll be wearing the very same red spaghetti strap, floor-length dress I wore to my junior prom nearly 10 years ago, getting a frame for the Ketubah, ordering the final batch of bridal party gifts, parents' wedding gifts, the wedding programs, and, of course, the additional regular work and personal stuff. Doctor's appointments, picking up prescriptions, blah blah blah. Oh me, oh my. But I love it.
Making a list reminds me, that while I do have a lot to do all of a sudden, it WILL all get done, and instead of 10 million things, it's actually more like 50, spread out between now and March. Also, we have to plan our honeymoon. INSERT DEEP BREATH HERE. Am I breathing? Checking .... yup, I am. Good.

No. 2 on my list: I'm OK.
So, this is a crazy subtitle, yes. But there is another thing I realized recently, and this actually has nothing to do with making lists. In the spirit of discovering habits (see yesterday's blog about my subconsciously "feeling" around my body for lumps and bumps), I figured out I have developed another habit, of both thinking and saying my feelings, that I have created, of not being OK yet. I know I have these thoughts as a way "protect" myself and "control" my life. I think, and tell people, that I'm "done for now" with the breast cancer. Yes, that's true. I can't ever say I'm done because I don't KNOW if I'll get breast cancer again, and also because I KNOW I'm getting another mastectomy. I realized last night, as Sean and I were at one of his office's holiday party (which was beautiful! I love mingling with people and getting dressed up!), I tell people these things. I don't mean I actually TELL them I'm getting another mastectomy or that I'm scared of getting cancer again. But many of Sean's co-workers know about my breast cancer and have been extremely kind and supportive. They asked how I was doing last night, told me I looked great, and said they were happy to see me doing so well. All things I enormously appreciate. But I find myself not believing it. When people ask how I'm doing, or ask about my breast cancer, I give them the short, short version of the story: I was diagnosed in April, but it was caught really early so two surgeries were able to remove it without treatment, and so I'm done .... FOR NOW. Like I said before, yes, it's true, I am done for now. But the way I'm saying it is with caution and doubt. Anyone who has survived cancer (or any other serious illness) knows this: you never feel done. You never feel cured. You never feel "in the clear" no matter how many good test results you get. And that's part of life. That's part of survivorship, and that's you are always, always STILL surviving. But in talking about me surviving breast cancer, and planning the wedding, I hesitate to really express that now I'm in the clear and I can fully engulf all of this. My surgeries are over, and the next big thing is my wedding. Even though I could before, I can REALLY now be excited about the wedding. Before my surgeries, I was excited and loving every moment, yes. But in the back of my mind I was worried about my surgeries, which is understandable. The surgeries were big fences in the way. Now the fences are knocked down, but I got new, smaller fences in exchange: the diagnosis of Li Fraumeni Syndrome. This diagnosis makes me scared, all over again, about getting new cancers, and also forces me and Sean to make really tough decisions about life. Decisions people in their 20s don't often make.
But at the holiday party last night I realized I don't have to be afraid of enjoying this moment in full. I'm not talking about previous posts where I'm figuring out how to live and just BE knowing this new thing about my life. This is about me letting go a little more, and feeling a little more free when I talk about my wedding. Before when I talked about it, in my mind I was practicing caution, as to not get too excited because I wasn't sure if everything was going to be OK. But I'm OK now. I just have to realize it. I know I'll never be able to fully, 100 percent FEEL like I'm OK. At least not for a while. Which is fine. But I realized I don't need to be cautious anymore about what I say and how I say it. We're having this wedding in three months and three weeks. And I'm OK now. There is nothing to hold me back. So when I tell friends and strangers alike how I'm doing, how I beat breast cancer, and what phase we're in for the wedding planning, I can say I'm OK. My breast cancer is OVER. DONE. Nobody knows what the future holds, but that's true for anyone, whether they've had breast cancer or not. True, my mutation makes me more likely to get it again, hence my decision to undergo another mastectomy. But what we know now is that I'm OK. And the wedding? We've just entered a new, faster gear. I love it. It's crazy and slightly stressful. But I love it. And when I look at March 31, from my eyes today, I can try a little harder to see the road a little more clearly. I'll ALWAYS have fences. Some big, some small. But perhaps the most significant fences are the ones I create.

Holiday parties and Hanukkah, bridal showers and birthdays! (and: Just BE, part 3)

These past few weeks, and these next few weeks are BUSY. B-U-S-Y. And that's a good thing. I need the distraction.
I've had THREE beautiful, wonderful, amazing bridal showers in the past two months. This week Sean and I have two holiday parties, plus the annual "Cookie Day" we have at my office. This coming weekend is my family's annual Hanukkah party in Virginia, followed by a Hanukkah party Sean and I are hosting at our house early next week. Then we've got another holiday party, and then my birthday! Following that are more weekends of fun (Jordanna coming to visit plus a New Years' Eve wedding in Philadelphia)!
I love this season for many reasons, and not for the reason most people would think, which is Christmas. As a Jewish person, I love this season for Hanukkah. I also love this season because it's my birthday (and my brother's and cousin's!) I love this season because I get to attend holiday parties and wear dresses that usually just hang in my closet. I love this season because of New Year's, which, this year, we have wonderful plans for!
Once all this holiday chaos is said and done, I'll be well into the countdown for my bachelorette weekend, which is mid-January. Then we'll stuff and send out the wedding invitations, I'll begin my dress fittings, and after that we'll start pre-wedding Aufrufs at both synagogues (Northern Virginia and Philadelphia), followed by more wedding planning (taste testing and cake-picking!), and then ... THEN! We're into March, a month where we only have ONE free weekend! (Think a wedding, my cousin's Bar Mitzvah and other celebrations.) And then? I can barely even say it: OUR WEDDING! Yes, we're three months and three weeks away. And in between now and March 31 we have only happy, fun things to celebrate. The parties will go by fast. Time will fly. The planning will eventually conclude. And we'll be celebrating what we've been planning this past year. And we'll be celebrating even more than that: we'll be celebrating life. The fight we had this year. And that Sean and I get to spend the rest of our lives together. The wedding may be the big "bang" at the end of all this craziness and planning and pre-wedding fun, but it will be the beginning of our marriage, and that is what I am most looking forward to - sharing and spending my life with the one person I love most in this world.
So I've had some really happy times these past few weeks, and I am really looking forward to even more fun times. But in the middle of this all, I'm still suffering. Not as much as I was before my surgery. Yes, I'm still in pain, but it's getting better every day. I also still have this #$%^$'in lump in my neck, which I've done a REALLY good job of not touching all the time. (Every 5 days or so?) It hasn't changed, thank G-d, and it still feels small and round and a little bouncy/movey. But is it supposed to STILL be there, especially if it's just a lymph node?! UGH. Who knows. So anyway, I was proactive and got my second follow-up ultrasound on it scheduled for Jan. 9. Good. It makes me feel better that I have more testing scheduled. But it also makes me nervous to wait. I HATE waiting for tests. Sure, this is nothing like the tests I had to wait for for my breast cancer, but I'm still anxious and it's still a test. And even though the first ultrasound came out "OK" - in that they didn't think it looked suspicious, that doesn't really make me feel any better about this test. They could see something different this time around. They could want to take action this time around. They could look at it, with different eyes and a different machine, and maybe realize something they didn't the first time. UGH it's terrifying. They could order a biopsy. Or want to surgically remove it. BEFORE the wedding. Yes, I know, imagining different scenarios makes me crazy. I don't KNOW what the doctors will say, and that's the truth. But having cancer twice and having Li Fraumeni Syndrome makes you (rightfully so) believe everything is cancer. So a lump that doesn't go away after more than a month? What am I supposed to think? Sure, it's good news (I guess) for the doctors to want to just monitor it and not automatically jump in there with needles, because it means they don't believe it's super serious. But monitoring ALSO sucks. Knowing it's there and trying to get on with life while also make sure it doesn't change is, to say the least, STRESSFUL. I am doing a really good job of not letting it consume me. Like, I know it's there, but I try not to obsess over it. When I think of it I go into a short, five-minute panic spell where I imagine the worst-case scenario, and then I remember: 1. I already got it checked out once and nobody seemed too concerned, and 2., what my therapist has helped me realize, which is that worrying about something does NOT give me "control" of the situation, nor does it help me "prepare for the worst," despite me thinking it does. So I let it go, just a little, and move onto something else. But as long as the lump is there I will be a little crazy. It's true, I can't escape it. And really, can you blame me?!
I've also noticed I have developed a new, probably detrimental to my mental health, habit. After I found the lump in my neck, I (half-joking) vowed I would either wear gloves all the time so as not to feel anything on my body, or purposefully NEVER touch myself anywhere, or only touch myself in the most minimal way, so I would never, ever, again risk finding something scary on my body. So, scratch an itch. Or wash my hair. Or get dressed. Or whatever. But never actually FEEL things, which I guess I always did subconsciously, which is how I discovered the neck lump. When I found it I must have been really really "digging" and not realizing it. That's because it's really deep in there. Just finding it for the first ultrasound was hard, so when I found it I must have been massaging my neck or something. Because now, when I go to find it, I can't find it right away.
I know, I know, breast self exams found my cancer early and could have possibly saved my life and affected my prognosis and saved me from other, possibly harmful, treatments. I will do self-exams. They are recommended, especially for me. But finding the lump (this time I'm talking about in my breast) made me insane, and made me crazy with feeling things. It traumatized me, honestly. Just the other day at work I was sitting at my desk scratching the underside of my leg, and I found myself almost like feeling it, like I was "looking" for something. I felt bones and liagments and muscles, and then I thought I felt a "lump" only to realize it was some muscle, and not a lump at all, and I had the same exact one on my other leg. It took me a few minutes of that until I realized what I was doing. I find myself massaging my head and neck and upper back, but so much so to the point where I'm not just massaging them, I'm actually "feeling around" for things, and I don't realize until I'm actually doing it. So finding the breast cancer myself was an incredible thing. But it also made me insane in this way. I have subconsciously started looking for lumps and abnormalities around my body, and I'm not sure when it started, but I need to stop. YES, it can save my life if I (G-d forbid) discover something else. But now knowing I have Li Fraumeni Syndrome, I'm always "looking." I guess this is one way having LFS would change my life, but in a way I wouldn't be aware of right away. Well, I'm aware of it now. And I need to stop doing this because it will make me crazy. I should just be aware of my body, like I already am, and get my regularly scheduled recommended tests and screenings, and hopefully that will be enough for me. Maybe now that I know I'm actually doing it, I can work on stopping it.
It's probably a good thing that I was feeling around in my neck last month and came across the lump, because I wouldn't have found it otherwise. Like I said, it's so deep in my neck I'm not sure how I even located it in the first place. I HAD to be really "looking."
I think it's pretty understandable that I have this new habit. I've had cancer twice, and the second one I found myself. So it only makes sense, that as scared as I am to "find" something else, I'm subconsciously "looking" anyway. Maybe to have a sense of control. I don't WANT to look and I definitely don't WANT to find anything, so I'm not sure why I'm doing it. But, it's not part of my conscious descion-making. I do this for some other, deep-down reason. But it's bad for me mentally. Every pimple and freckle and muscle and ligament becomes a cancer scare. When I wrote about how I wanted to just BE and live my life with LFS but not let it consume every ounce of me, this is NOT what I had in mind.
So, new habit has formed. I've addressed it. I know I do it. Now, I work on stopping it.
I'm going to distract myself with happy plans and live my life and have this wedding, and the lump in my neck will be there for now. An unwanted guest. But I'm taking care of it. I'm getting it checked.
And in addition to my neck and my new (terrible) habit, I've still got breast cancer on my mind. I was just thinking in the car on the way to work today if I would feel relieved once I had the other breast removed. I had always thought the answer to that was an obvious resounding YES. But for the first time, I wondered if the answer was no. If I'd still be scared, even without both breasts. Probably a little, as I know breast cancer can develop even IF you don't have breasts, because it can form in any remaining tissue in your armpits, it can develop in the chest wall, and it can develop in lymph nodes. I hate that I know all this, but I think I'd hate it even more if I didn't. I like how I educate myself and take control of my health. I have to. I have no other choice. I care about my body. I care about my life and the people in it. So I like that about myself. But when is it TOO much?! Again, it's somehow about finding balance. Letting yourself live, but being aware. Taking control, but not to the point of insanity and exhaustion. Balance. Just being. Just living with the information and knowledge you have, no matter how scary, no matter how paralyzing.

Bridal shower frenzy! {Part 2}

As if two beautiful, amazing, elegant bridal showers weren't enough, I was surprised with a THIRD today, hosted by my amazing girlfriends in State College! I am, yet again, on Cloud 9. I feel so happy and blessed to have so many amazing people in my life, who make me feel special and incredible, and who are SO happy to share my upcoming wedding enjoyment with me!
Today's bridal shower was full of fun games (including me trying on multiple pairs of undies, and a "Newlywed"-style trivia game!), a beautiful pink cake with polka dots and bows, pink chocolate-covered strawberries and other goodies! My belly is full of sugar and my heart is full of happiness. Here are more pictures. Some from today, and some new ones from the Virginia tea party I received a few days ago. I can never say it enough: I am so lucky to have had THREE bridal showers (two of which were a surprise!) I never imagined these months before my wedding would be so spectacular. I mean, I could hope and dream that they would be. But I never could have imagined THIS ...

The tale of the snail

I think it's important to remind myself, each day if I can, what I have accomplished since April, what I'm capable of doing today, and what I will continue to do as my life moves forward. I can't forget, though I still have days of crying and anger, how far I've come.

What I've done: I beat breast cancer. I underwent a mastectomy with lymph node removal. I recovered. I underwent a painful expansion process. I got through it. I underwent another surgery, in which more skin was removed. I recovered. I underwent, yet again, a painful expansion process. I got through it. I underwent a third surgery in which my expander was removed and implants were put it on both sides. I recovered. I underwent genetic testing for the p53 gene. I got the news. I dealt with it. I took action to start my screening process, and to recommend testing for my family. I started thinking about when I would have my other mastectomy, and what this all means for starting a family.

What I'm doing: I'm recovering from my implant surgery. I'm not lifting "truck tires" yet, (thanks, Dr. Moyer!) but I am back to lifting weights, going to the gym, and just recently started sleeping on my sides! I'm planning my wedding. I'm thinking about what it means to have Li Fraumeni Syndrome. I'm going to work, planning parties, seeing friends and family. I'm traveling. I'm working on not letting my worry control my life, and not letting this recent diagnosis define me. I'm working to live and just BE, despite this recent news. I'm pedaling, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, on a bike, that now, is actually going somewhere. I'm sharing my story, today and every day, in a million different ways.

What I'm going to do: I'm going to continue to recover from my implant surgery. I'm going to continue to be proactive about my health, but not let anxiety consume me. I'm going to get screened and tested, and know, each day, what my cancer risk is, while not letting that control my life. I'm going to continue to plan my wedding. I'm going to get married. I'm going to have a family, in a way that hasn't yet been decided, but I will decide it, with Sean. I'm going to have another mastectomy. I'm going to recover from that. Some days I'm going to worry about cancer more than other days. I'm going to educate myself about Li Fraumeni Syndrome, and like with the breast cancer, join support groups and reach out to others in my situation. But I won't let that be all of me. I'm much more than this, and although it will help me to be a part of the LFS community, I can't let that be my whole community. I can't be consumed by thoughts of cancer. I'm going to keep doing THIS, which is different every day, and I'm going to keep writing about it along the way. I'm going to do things that are helpful and healing to me. I'm going to focus on good, happy things. I'm going to control my bitterness and accept that I'm different, and then find the good in it. I'm going to continue to share my story. I've got quite a lot to say.
I can't forget the progress I've made, and how far I've come in my many battles. I know I'm still fighting many of them, and may be for a while, but at least I'm getting somewhere. In the story of my journeys, I am both a snail and a jackrabbit. Sometimes my trails are clouded or covered in branches or thorns, and sometimes they are clean. Sometimes there are fences, and sometimes there aren't. Sometimes I can see my path, other times I can't. A lot changes ... all the time. But one thing remains consistent: I'm still moving. Some days I might move reluctantly, some days with ease. Some days I'm pretty sure I don't think I'm moving at all, or refuse to move. But I always do. So here we are, and my journey continues. I'll write my way through it, and be glad you're all along with me. This snail, or rabbit, has many friends along for the ride. So let's make it a good one.
True, we only have one life. But the most wonderful thing in the world, is that each day we're given another chance to live it.

And now, on a lighter, more cheerful note, here is a list I've compiled of things that help me "keep on keeping on."

Marjie's Tips for Happiness and Health:

1. Eat an apple a day. Really. One a day. And educate yourself about apples so when people ask what kind of apple you're eating, you can reply accordingly: Red Delicious, Granny Smith, Gala, Honeycrisp, etc. And learn the difference in the supermarket, too.
2. Paint your nails according to your mood, not the season.
3. Drink coffee. The bigger the mug, the better. And find a favorite brand, whether it's Starbucks, Maxwell House or Arbuckle's. When making your own coffee, always, always smell the grinds before putting them in. It helps with the "experience."
4. Watch TV shows that inspire you. For me, it's Fashion Hunters and Selling New York.
5. Wear a vintage brooch. And then talk about its "vintage-ness."
6. Eat chocolate. In moderation, and slowly.
7. Floss thoroughly. (Especially after No. 1 on this list)
8. Name your car and talk to it. Tell it if you're proud of it. For example, I always tell my '96 Corolla, Sylvester, if I'm proud of him for getting up the mountain on the way home from work. (He's old and worn out so he needs the motivation and support.) It's OK for your car to have middle and last names, too. Mine, since I got him at age 17: Sylvester Harrison Stromberg Pie. I call him Sylvie for short, but he doesn't like that because it sounds like a girl's name.
9. Talk to your plants and flowers when you water them. It's good for them, and it's good for you.
10. You don't have to wait until New Years Eve to wear glitter and sequins.
11. Make plans with friends, even if it's just a simple coffee date. Fill your calendar with things you'll look forward to.
12. Plan a party and then get a little stressed out about it. Just a little, though.
13. Read blogs that are of interest to you, even if it's a little weird. My favorite blogs are about vintage clothing, chocolate and home decor. Bird-watching blog OK.
14. Foods high in protein go a long way: non-fat Greek Yogurt and a handful of nuts.
15. Drink hot tea while curled up in a fleece blanket. It's really the best way to drink hot tea.
16. Say "hi" to animals as you pass by them, even if you're in your car and they can't hear you. (Cows and dogs appropriate.)
17. Plan your outfits for upcoming events in advance so you're not in a frenzy finding something to wear. There's nothing more stressful, really. Events in which you know your picture will be taken require more in-depth outfit planning.
18. With things that make your blood boil, such as someone tailgating you while driving, take a deep breath and remember: there's much more to life than this. I'm not going to waste my energy getting angry. And then pretend the @#$%^&-ass in the car behind you is a cute bunny wearing an Argyle sweater vest, and you can't be mad at a cute bunny with a sweater vest!
19. Tweet. Tweet like people care.
20. Put up pictures and cards around your house: on your refrigerator, dresser and desk, to remind yourself daily of the wonderful life you have and the wonderful people in it.
21. Worry less about what others think, especially if you're being true to yourself.
22. Hot pink leggings are acceptable for lounging, even if you're 26. (And for insurance, I'll say it's acceptable even when you're 27 so this list still applies to me two weeks from now.)
23. Own themed socks with things on them, and then wear them accordingly. For example, I wear my Betsey Johnson socks when I'm in a really good mood or have something important coming up, my Hanukkah socks during Hanukkah, Valentine's Day during Valentine's Day, etc., and anything with animals or coffee cups on them when I'm lounging around the house. That way I can see them all the time, as they aren't hidden by shoes.
24. Go all out in fashion, all the time. In other words, if you want to wear glitter heels to work, do it. If you want to wear bright red lipstick to CVS, do it. Life is too short to let your shoes and your lipstick just sit there and rot. Get yo' money's worth!
25. Google images of your favorite animal. To cheer myself up I Google pictures of Samoyeds.
26. Watch old TV shows that you enjoy, but are not "trendy" anymore. Ones that people routinely make fun of are even better. Laverne & Shirley, Little House on the Prairie, Designing Women, Who's the Boss and Veronica's Closet are some of mine.
27. Drink lots and lots and lots of water. Most importantly: a glass when you first wake up in the morning, a glass before each meal, and a glass before bed, unless you're a tinkler at night.
28. Exfoliate daily. And then moisturize.
29. Buy and use a candle that makes you hungry when you smell it.
30. MAKE YOUR OWN LIST!

*Disclaimer: Originally I wrote this post to be published tomorrow, so that my posts would be spread out more. But, this is my blog and I make the rules, so if I want to write two posts in a day, I should! And also, why wait?! I've written this for the world to see, after all.

Bridal shower frenzy! {I love these moments!}

I've really been lagging on the posting! My sincerest apologies!

Life has been crazy again, still, however you want to put it. This past weekend I was in Reston, Virginia for my bridal shower that was hosted by my mom, her friend Joanie, my Aunt Amy, my Maid of Honor Karishma, and two of my bridesmaids: Rachel and Jordanna. The theme was "high tea" and, even now as I try to explain, it I have a huge smile across my face, and I am speechless! It was beautiful, marvelous, elegant, blissful!

The bridal tea party was hosted at Rachel's parents' home, which is beautiful. I loved that it was there because I have known Rachel since early childhood, and we have many happy memories playing in that house.

They set up little tables around the front room of the house. The tables, each sitting three or four people, were adorned with beautiful tableclothes, some with crochet overlay, and the most beautiful, delicate eclectic mix of tea sets. There was beautiful china with pink, floral and other prints. And the food! My aunt made chocolate and red velvet cupcakes with pink frosting and little pink edible "pearls" on top. There were mini sandwiches: cucumer, tuna and eggsalad. There were chocoate hearts, eclairs and Napolitan treats. And Jordanna made these scones (chocolate chip and cranberry), that literally melted in your mouth.

After I finally took in the beauty of the room, and perused all the treats atop the piano, we took our seats. Karishma gave a little welcome speech, and then Rachel described the tea. Little bowls of different flavors of loose leaf tea lined the front of the piano, and guests could mix and match their flavors, and create their own tea bags. I chose the green tea mint, but there was also a variety of other flavors, including chai.

We sat and talked over sandwiches and scones that were served to us. I was so excited to be amongst my family and friends. There were about 15 or 20 of us women, and it felt intimate and nice. The favors were beautiful printed (in different patterns) tea caddies with personalized tea, wrapped in a pink ribbon. The tea bag said "Tea-riffic coupe" at the top, and then: Marjorie and Sean, March 31, 2012 (for our wedding date, of course.)

As soon as tea was over, some of them ladies took turns going into the other room and working on a scrapbook. They were told to bring pictures to the tea, so they could add them to the book, which I am told will be given to us at the wedding. I have never been so amazed with the amount of pictures I saw! Pictures, stickers, ribbon and glitter covered the table, and everyone worked hard to make personalized pages for me and Sean. Even I made a page!

After the scrapbooking portion of the party, we moved to the living room and I began opening gifts. (That part's always fun!)

There was lots of laughter and ribbons. My friend Lauri made me a beautiful ribbon hat with the ribbons and bows from the presents.

Again, I felt like a bridal queen, atop my throne. I was all smiles the rest of the day and the weekend, and still even today. I can't describe the feeling of the party. It was lovely. It was very me. I felt loved, so much, and that every single little detail, from the pink cupcakes to the beautiful china to the scrapbook, was me, all me, in every single way.

To get sappy for a moment here (which, you shouldn't be surprised, because I'm sappy in almost every post!) these bridal showers I have had are MORE THAN I COULD HAVE EVER IMAGINED, HOPED FOR, DREAMED OF. Before I got engaged, and then even after I got engaged, I tried to picture my bridal shower. (Of course, I only thought I was going to have one!) But I could have never, EVER, pictured how amazing and beautiful both of my showers would be! Both the shower in Philadelphia at the beautiful Cafe La Fontana. With the bridal shower bingo and famous couples in history games. The magnificent, personalized menu of the most delectable foods. A room full (about 60?) of people, all there just for me. Pink flowers and pink gift bags filled with candles and picture coasters.

And my bridal tea party in Virginia. The most elegant, classy, intimate high tea. Beautiful, thoughtful details.

Each shower was amazing and different in its own way, and I could have never pictured such amazing parties for me. Truly amazing. I'm truly blessed with marvelous people in my life. I am so thankful. I am so lucky. These showers were above and beyond my wildest expectations, and they will forever remain in my mind, heart and soul. I feel like the luckiest, most beautiful bride in the world. And I owe that feeling to my fiancee (who brought me red roses and helped carry presents to the car at both showers!) and my family and friends. Too many to name, but each of them have helped make these moments memorable and special. Words would never be enough.

And now....some pictures!

I am awaiting a picture cd from Karishma from the bridal tea party, but until then, here are some pictures Jordanna took at the party. Thank you, Jordanna!

And mixed in with those those: pictures from my amazing surprise bridal shower in Philadelphia last month (which I promised I would post but never did. They are from my camera)

So, this blog post is ALL about my bridal shower mania, because it is the best feeling right now, to be in this pretty, lovely, loved, happy, bridal, moment.

{A mixture of photos from my two bridal showers: in Philadelphia on Nov. 13, and in Virginia on Dec. 3}