I do try and stay positive, and most of the time I am successful. It's been a long road this past year and I am still figuring out the new normal and the new me. One of the side effects of chemotherapy was rapid weight gain. I gained 19 lbs over the course of the last 4 months on Taxol. Nothing fits and I am pretty miserable. I don't recognize myself and I think my butt may have registered with Los Angeles county for its own zip code. It's difficult to go through such an emotionally and physically challenging ordeal such as cancer without the additional muffin-tops. Funnily enough my sense of pride and vanity is mostly related to the chub factor. I've always been a thin person and I am now officially (according to my BMI) overweight. It's embarrassing and even though I have an excellent excuses as to why I've become fat, it causes me almost more grief than missing a breast or having no hair.
My cats have taken to trying to hibernate in my squishy fatness when I get out of the shower. The combination of warm pudgy smell good pillow people is too much for my cats to resist. When I get up in the morning I am covered in kitties.... ain't right I tell you!
Here... have a picture.
You are TOO much. I so look forward to your drawings - even though they're illustrating a state you'd so much rather not be in, they're just... funny. You have such a talent, Tracey, and I thank God you have the strength and sense of humor to share it with us all. Here's hoping you can strike a balance in the coming months between the body you like, and the one your kitties are finding oh-so-comfortable.
The funny karma here is that on your original post, there's a weight loss ad on one side, and a callout for recipes on the other. Gosh, it seems like sometimes we can't get away from that feeling that it's all about the body image. Which, were that true, would mean we'd all pack it in after the first lumpectomy.
Take care, girl- XXX PJH
Ooooh life just isn't worth living if you can't laugh about it. Right? Right! I like doing the drawings. The art is therapeutic in a way, and I do think laughter is the best medicine, ergo, funny drawings! I think I would have had a much much much harder time if everyone around me was serious. It disarmed the disease when I had people cracking cancer jokes all around me. Everyone I know is surprised at how strong I am or "how brave"... I always found that weird because when the other option is to crawl under a rock and give up... who'd choose to not be positive.
Life is a journey. Cancer has taught me SO much, I wouldn't trade the experience for anything.
I feel exactly the same way, Tracey. 1) "Brave?" Uh, and my other choice was... what? Cry? Die? One foot in front of the other every day, baby. 2) I would choose to have cancer again, it's taught me so much, re-prioritized my life so much... truly, I would. It's lucky we feel this way, huh? Thanks for writing back - PJH