I have to talk about It.
It followed me for three weeks when I first learned of the diagnosis and formulated a plan for therapy to achieve a good prognosis. While Rob and I prayed and kept vigil at God’s feet, hovering nearby It would disturb my moments of forgetfulness. One Wednesday night I watched The Middle on ABC and at the show’s conclusion stood from lounging and forgetting for 30 minutes that I have BC, only for It to remind me that I am not well.
I have followed numerous cars with stickers and magnets touting It and have wanted to ram into their rear ends but thought better things and said prayers to God that I would not hate It.
While touring Disney with the family over winter break, I would be walking about zombie-esque at times followed by laughing times (the boys did not know, yet) only to be jarred back into reality by someone’s t-shirt brandishing It and I would grow somber and sober of heart. Why did Mini wear pink in that parade? Why does Daisy have to have a pink bow on today? It seemed to have a presence in the parade beginning, middle, end. The fireworks seemed to produce an absence of It and for that, I was grateful, almost tear-filled. A break from It!
I went to buy shoes to replace a bejeweled strappy pair only to be drawn to a similar pair that came in a box under the arms of the shoe lady that had It on the box! Good grief! But, I did buy them and when I got home I realized It was part of the strap. I’m not returning them, though.
It, I do not like, because It is not where my identity lies.
Some want to wear it to support me or honor the cause. I prefer they not. It is not my identity. It, I cannot quite stomach to decorate with on my Facebook wall. I don’t want It on my car’s bumper, my hats, shirts, purses, off I go to chemo tote, or necklaces/earrings.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate what It symbolizes…survivorship.
It speaks highly of those who have gone before me and come through to tell their story and raise awareness of the importance of those monthly self-checks and the yearly mammogram past a certain age (which should be younger and younger not later and later, you health care politicians and insurance ambassadors)! There’s a whole post in that alone. But, I won’t go there further. It causes many to contribute monetarily to research for the prevention of BC.
It is not me. It has come to pass, not come to stay. It will be a part of my story, but only a part of His story for me. Ultimately, my identity is in Him.
I will survive and I will go on without being sidetracked by It tapping me on my shoulder as if to make me fear and question every potential bump, lump, pain, twinge, test, test report, doctor’s opinion, and blood relatives’ symptoms.
I’ll wear the color of Its emblem but only because it’s a color I’ve always liked and didn’t dress my babies in since they were boys and baby blue seemed to make even some think they were girls at times. Really, people?
I won’t fear when I go to the triple negative breast cancer site and see three of them interlocked reminding me of the seriousness of that triple negative rare and aggressive form of BC. I could not have played the slot machines and come up with three matching jackpot symbols, yet, for some reason, I hit the jackpot with this. Go figure. : ) There they are, three of them lined up in a row of solidarity like a line-up of strong-armed children embarking on a one-sided game of Red Rover and I am the weak one who is chosen to break through their tight grasp. Which pair is the weakest link, I ask?
Every morsel I put in my mouth or sip through a straw has become a source of life or death to be consumed based on what the latest report says. What It represents causes me to seriously consider each bite and not be pleased with most of what I have cooked, eaten, and sipped all these years. At 46, is it possible to change all of that? Is it too much to change at one time? Yes! But, small bite-sized changes each day add up to consuming that which may bring better results to ensure I don’t embarrass It in the long run. As I type this I am eating a deviled egg (two halves), a plate-full of fresh steamed asparagus, a Gala apple, and organic peanut butter on a triscuit. My beverage? Fresh-brewed green tea. Who am I? I am one who runs in the opposite direction at the sight of It.
I take my tiny but fully-loaded and prescription-strength 50,000 IU Vitamin D supplement twice weekly, my EHA supplement daily, and a good once daily vitamin with excellent calcium and more Vitamin D all in an attempt to make It proud of my worthiness to don It one day.
Recently when I went to make my monthly office supply store run (I really do like that kind of errand), I saw a whole package of pens in the right color with It glued on the clip. I moved right past them and got the “willies” over the sighting. Some of the proceeds from the purchase would support research for a cure, but I just couldn’t buy them. Instead, when I went to the Galleria Riverside I bought Gardener’s soap and hand lotion that had a tiny It on the back. That, I could stomach in my bathroom and the fragrance is heavenly.
Well, I’ve vented enough and may have offended some of you who bear It on your cars and such. Seriously, I am not mad at you if you do. I just can’t go there with It…yet.