monday morning scribbles

I had a wonderful weekend, even if there was pink, pink, and more pink everywhere given that Mother’s Day weekend is the Race for the Cure in Philadelphia. 

Everywhere I went this weekend, I saw women either gearing up for the race or returning from it.  At times it made me quietly emotional since I am but starting this journey.  And seriously, when did breast cancer become the new accessory for women? Wouldn’t a nice Prada or Hermès or Coach bag be more fun???  Two weeks into this and I have had to adjust my thinking to: “who hasn’t had breast cancer?”

OMG, settle down all of you…I am o.k. Yes, yes, I have indeed accepted the fact I have this disease, but still, sometimes I need a quiet brain.  That is the thing with this diagnosis, it creeps into way too many thoughts.  I am beginning to recognize and realize this and am working my way through. 

I find out more later this week about the cancer.  That is a frightening thought even if at this point I just want this shit cut out of my body already.  Yes I keep meeting women who have survived this and I am a fighter too, but still, as I said last week and the week before, it would be much nicer if it was happening to someone else.

More people are finding out my diagnosis and calling, sending notes, etc.  I appreciate all of that.  It is distinctly humbling to know all of you are out there.  It a cushion that will help me through this. 

Over the weekend one of my friends gave me the F-bomb.  Yes my very own F-bomb for my bursts of f-bombing potty mouth. YAY! 

But as I sit here quietly, admiring a perfect spring morning, I think I am pretty o.k. today.  I have to be. My head needs to stay in the game. That is how I will get through.  I am not denying the existence of breast cancer, but you know what? It just can’t have all of me. 

Git R’ Done comes to mind.

Learning to balance work and other activities with all of this is an exercise in patience.  Work is stressful, but you know what?  I have to work.  It would be really nice right now to have the luxury of being able to do nothing right now except deal with this, but I can’t.  I am cutting back the activism and some of my extracurricular activities right now though.  It is somehow not so important right now, LOL.  Except I will tell you I heard those god damned construction workers around the corner at a little before 6 a.m. and I am not cool with that.  A girl needs her beauty sleep.

I will get through this, I know I will. And I know that I have jumped up this schedule and rammed through amounts of tests into two that usually take a couple of weeks at least, but giddeyup I have a life to lead.  Friends, family, a love I adore – I have a life to lead cancer free people.

I will admit I saw something in the news that I find profoundly disturbing – the City of Philadelphia has a disturbing level of radioactive iodine in the water – as in drinking water. A reporter I know, Bill Bender, broke the story.  Needless to say Mayor Michael Nutter hasn’t mentioned one word of it on his Facebook page, and neither has The City of Philadelphia.  I am sure they are waiting for Glenda the Good Witch to wave her magic wand.  Having a known carcinogen in the drinking water would sure be enough for me as a voter to NOT vote for Michael Nutter in the primary on May 17th, don’t know about the rest of you.

(Uhhh ohhh people, look out, I just mixed activism with breast cancer…but hell, Philadelphia has known since 2007 this was an issue.)

I am also obsessed a bit by the fact that in our area the rate of breast cancer in women is 1 in 6.  Why is it 1 in 6????  Inquiring minds need to know. (If you know the answer to that, please post a comment)

O.K. people, it is a glorious day today – enjoy it!

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About carla

Writer, blogger, photographer, breast cancer survivor. I write about whatever strikes my fancy as I meander through life.
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One Response to monday morning scribbles

  1. Sara says:

    During the late 90’s I was a ‘worker bee’ for WHEN – the Women’s Health and Environmental Network, founded by 2 breast cancer survivors in Philadelphia. One thing we discovered was that cancer statistics were gathered based on the zipcode of the hospital or cancer center where the woman was TREATED, rather than profiled on where the patient lived, where they might have grown up in an unhealthy neighborhood. Thus, it was almost impossible to accurately designate and define geographically locus of cancer clusters.
    Perhaps information gathering has changed ….

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