Happy Anniversary to My Hubby

Corey and I just celebrated our one-year wedding anniversary and I never got him a card, because there wasn’t a card that could say everything that needed to be said to a man like this. This is a love letter to my husband, (so if you are not down for some mushy stuff, go away). Hehe!

Dear Corey,

I wrote this weeks ago, because I wanted to capture exactly how I felt in this moment in time.

I hesitate to even write this because just thinking about who you have been for me moves me to a waterfall of tears.

I know that when you get married you say all these vows like, "I promise to love, cherish . . . In sickness and in health, 'till death do us part’." You know the drill. We even wrote our own vows where I bawled my face off in front of 130 of our closest friends and family. I remember the only trouble I had writing it was my attempt to keep it short, I had so much I wanted to say to you. I mean we already did 9 years of you and me, so us getting married was just another way to show how much we loved each other. But when the big ‘C’ came into our lives, 6 short months later, I was scared that I had ruined the blissful path we had set our sights on. I wasn't sure how this would affect us, me, you . . . you and me. You have had a front row seat to it all and to say you have been my rock, would be an understatement. That does not encapsulate who you have been for me. SO, instead I will say THANK-YOU. Thank-you for your unwavering faith of, “We got this.” I never once looked at you and doubted that I was not going to be defeated by this. 

So, Thank-you for that first and foremost, but for so much more:

• Thank-you for taking me to appointment after appointment and holding my hand literally through each one. Thank-you for never judging me when my mood went from happy to uncontrollable tears within minutes.
• Thank-you for always making me laugh when I wanted to curl up in a ball and give up.
• Thank-you for bringing me my vitamins every morning and have it sitting the bed before I even open my eyes.
• Thank -you for coming home in the middle of the day, every day, to check on me, bring me food, or just keep my company.
• Thank-you for sitting with me until I fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon.
• Thank-you for your eyes that never showed pity or fear, just love.
• Thank-you for telling me I am beautiful day in and day out, (even in my daily uniform of robe, fuzzy socks and sunglasses).
• Thank-you for sleeping in the other room when you got a cold as to not affect me. 
• Thank-you for rubbing my head and kissing it goodnight.
• Thank-you for reading to me when my head and eyes hurt too much to read for myself.
• Thank you for bringing me snacks when you knew, that bag of Doritos might be the only thing that would bring me peace and I couldn’t leave the house to get them myself. AND for not getting me snacks that you knew would send my digestive track into chaos (like the pizza, burger and fries I always wanted).
• Thank-you for listening to all my complaining about the same things over and over and OVER, and not once sounding annoyed, you never made me feel like I exhausted you with the same old complaints, "My hair is falling out, my eyebrows, I cat eat, can't sleep, I'm sad, I'm angry, I'm cold, I'm hot, I'm depressed etc.”
• Thank-you for letting me buy all those clothes online even though we both know I had no damn place to wear them.
• Thank-you for laying around with me and watching all my favorite “chick flick” favorites.
• Thank-you for, Me: “Honey do I look like an alien, am I ugly?” You: “Ugly?? You are beautiful and look like a sexy milk dud.” And then kissed my bald head.
• Thank-you for never letting me give up on who I know myself to be, who you know me to be.
• Thank-you for being stronger than me (you always have been, one of the many reasons I married you).
• Thank-you for loving me unconditionally.

So, I have some words, but they will never be enough to express what you have been for me, it's a feeling, like I grab my heart and start to cry every time I think of who you have been. I know you know all this so I didn't need to write this, I tell you everyday how much I appreciate everything you do, BC (before cancer) and now. That is the type of relationship we have. This is for the world to know who you are. The best man I know. My best friend in every sense of the word. You are being the love of my life is a given, you are also my light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

I LOVE YOU

Your Wife, a.k.a. Sexy milk Dud

Is Cancer Teaching Me Something?

I feel my whole life was about getting six pack abs, (OK maybe not my whole life, but it was an obsession). If I could just work out more, more sit ups, do more cardio I would get there. Then when that didn't work I was sure it was what I was eating. So, I cut out all the things I love, (just to feel guilty each time I put a donut in my mouth), it was torture, ladies you know what I am talking about!. I thought I even had an eating disorder because I would hide what I was eating from the hubby, as if he didn't know after seeing the Doritos bags floundering about. But I continued to work out hard and be unhappy with what looked back in the mirror. If I could just loose that last 10 lbs, I would be happy, right? I would beat myself up for not staying on the treadmill long enough, I mean look at all those other people who can run for miles on end . . . fuckers, I would say (yes I be hatin'). 10 more pounds and I would get that six pack and be happy! Funny story . . .  then I got cancer, and I had chemo and couldn't eat a damn thing. The smell of food made me want to vomit, I couldn't eat more than a palm size meal at any given time and I lost those 10 lbs in a heart beat. 5 lbs, then 10 lbs then 15 lbs . . . all my dreams were coming true. F!

So, my obsession about food and loosing weight turned into obsession about what could I digest without pain. Digestion was a full-time job, in the beginning it would hurt to eat. Not just the fear of the digestion, but also the fear of would it be able to pass out of the other end? (TMI, but that too was a full-time job).  Acid reflux, heartburn, and nausea became my cross to bear. Nothing seemed to ever want to pass that lump in my chest. I would cry hours after I ate because it still did not pass. WTF was this shit?! I would think. It was a nightmare. I still craved the pizza and fries, only now I knew if I ate it there would be consequences . . . and yet sometimes I still did because it was the only thing that brought me a moments peace.  The silver lining . . . I lost that last 10 lbs I had been gunning for all those years. All these years I have been punishing myself, killing myself at the gym and eliminating all the foods I love, and all I had to do to lose weight, was to go on the chemo diet. Duh!

**Side note-  I didn't have that 6 pack that I was convinced was under there, by the way. And for once I don’t care . . . Ok that's a lie, I was like, WTF? That's some BS, where the hell is my 6 pack?!

As I write this today I feel great, so no woe is me, that food nightmare is in my rear view. I am on my last leg of chemo called, Taxol, and it doesn’t have half the side effects of those first 4 rounds, (Thank the Lord!) Summer has sprung just in time and I can eat normal things again (within reason). So, what had me bring this up? Glad you asked, well in case I haven’t mentioned it, there is a very good chance I will have at least one of my breast chopped off. Yes, the imminent surgery looming has given me a new-found respect for every inch of my body. I DO NOT want to have the conversation, “Don’t worry you can just get implants.” It is not that simple and I do not want to educate you all before I know the outcome for me, so let’s shelve that convo. I want to make you present to the gift called your body. Stand naked in the mirror and take a look. Now imagine having any part of it chopped off. The end. Not gonna get anymore morbid then that . . . for now. AND this is not about my boobs getting chopped off (sort of, no shit I am really scared about that).

This is about how I have started to realize how much I haven’t appreciated this entire vessel over my 36 years. And how if I had a daughter and she spoke about her body they way I did, I would throw her into therapy and got her some serious help. That goes for my friends as well. I don’t know many people who love their body 100% exactly how it is and exactly how it isn’t. It’s not wrong, it just makes me sad. We don’t realize the endless conversations about losing weight impacts our self esteem and our entire way of being. There is nothing like the possibility of having a chunk of you cut off to make you realize how much you have mistreated this vehicle that takes you though your everyday life. 

I am declaring a love for my body, exactly how it is, and exactly how it isn’t. I won't always love it, and it will take some reminding but I want to appreciate every inch of it as long as I can, because sometime soon I may not have those pieces anymore (not to be morbid about it) but it's true. So, ladies love your bodies, however they are and however they are not, because I know most of you who read this and you are all stunning and fucking beautiful. Period. 

**Side note, I am not saying not work out for your health. Your health is all you have. I am saying forgive yourself for not looking like an Instagram model, that shit be filtered. Ha ha!!!