09-30-15

Team DIEP; Team Cancer; Team Breast Cancer; Team have to explain scars; Team gets sick easily; Teams bruises easily; Team new life

September 30, 2015, at the age of 36, I had a 3D mammogram that literally saved my life.  I requested the mammo from my ob/gyn for no other reasons than my insurance covered it and it made sense to me to get a baseline for my mammo when I turned 40. Zero family history, zero lumps or bumps, zero concerns from my doctor or myself.  That mammogram to this day hasn't been covered by insurance because it was 3D, which my insurance considers experimental, despite detecting stage 2 triple positive aggressive cancer in my left breast.  As I look back 2 years to the day, I wasn't concerned, I was worried it might be uncomfortable, but no thoughts or concerns came to me of possibly something being found.  I had zero issues, my doctor said I didn't need it, the mammo tech said I had dense breasts and would most likely be asked to be rechecked for this reason.  I had a carefree weekend, when the call came for an ultrasound, again, no concerns....... Until 2 radiologists came in my room after over an hour of me being alone telling me to go to a breast surgeon that DAY.  The rest has been explained in this blog.....

I can't adequately explain how the last 2 years have been, I don't feel there are enough adjectives, words, or feelings to describe what I've been through; or what those I love have been through. I do know that now when I see a bald woman, I want to run to her and say I understand, I know that you don't want to talk about it, you just want to go out with your girlfriends for a carefree night.  I want to say, be bold, be brave, be bald.  I long to hug them, and show them my tattoo in solidarity.  I understand so much more about life than I ever did. 

I was married, with a full time kick ass job, just graduated from my MBA when I had my first mammogram.  Currently, I'm unemployed (by choice), divorced (by choice, but have a great friend out of it), sitting at my kitchen table about to work on meeting minutes for a board I serve on drinking coffee.  Yesterday, my 2 year anniversary of my first mammogram, I was sick with the stomach flu not realizing the date.  I hope that every year, September 30, October 12 (date of diagnosis), March 24 (date of last chemo), and May 17 (cancer free), will no longer matter as much. Instead, I hope the date my stepson gets married, the date I meet my special someone, the date I feel beautiful again are the dates I rejoice. I am still extremely confident in my decision to leave my job to travel, gather myself, and discover who I am now.  

I look forward to be a member of Team found my person; Team found my dream job; Team followed my heart (although I'm at least an honorary member of this one). I urge every woman to please get your mammograms, check yourselves regularly, and donate to causes that actually help women.  There are few resources to help pay bills, take women to appointments, clean their homes, help with their pets, pay their utilities, help with anything else they need including hugs and love.  Please research before you walk or donate to a charity, I was lucky, I have amazing insurance, love, and support but so many women don't.  If your insurance doesn't cover mammograms, help fight for early detection.  If you can't get one on the mobile mammogram bus because you're under 40, get a script from your doctor, if you have family history, GOOOOOOOO.

Men, self-check, self-check, self-check.  We all have breasts, we just like women's better, but that doesn't mean yours aren't just as important.

I'll continue to update y'all on my journey, I know I've been lacking and damn if I haven't seen some gorgeous places and met amazing people.  My words haven't slowed down, they've just been interrupted by living life.  

PTSD

Yesterday, during movie previews, a preview came on that made me teary eyed. I sat in the theater in near darkness, with tears running down my face, the movie is Thank You For Your Service, it comes out fall 2017.  No, I don't have PTSD, I am lucky to have never endured an event or events to cause this diagnosis. I was married to a man who served in the Army for nearly two decades, and he has PTSD.  We went through it together in the beginning of our relationship, and there were scary moments, sad moments, moments that don't have a name. This movie made me remember that my ex-husband and I had a lot of moments that helped define both of us. I remembered the times he saw dead soldiers in his sleep and had conversations, I remembered when he would lay on top of me to protect me from whatever he thought was breaking down our door, or doors.  I thought about the times that he cried so hard because he hated how he felt, he was so scared of what he would do in his sleep, when he wasn't conscious. He has often told me that I helped make him a better person, he's grown and changed into the man he is because of our relationship.

I feel that I failed him sometimes by ending our marriage, that I walked away from a person who knows me better than almost anyone. Although we are better off friends, I will always feel that I understand PTSD better than the person sitting next to me.  Than the audience that will sit watching Thank You For Your Service. This is a short blog, but the purpose of a blog is to share your thoughts, experiences, and words that flow from your fingertips. I'm not even sure why I felt the need to post this one, but that feeling yesterday in the old theater in Abilene brought back memories.

Sisters

Sisters, sisters... There were never such devoted sisters. I have two sisters, an older and a younger. My older sister is living her life in Dayton and my younger sister lives with me. Having sisters is a blessing, and a curse. We aren't typical sisters.... same father, different mothers, age differences, distance, differing personalities, you know sister stuff. I am not the best sister, I get angry, frustrated, I don't communicate effectively, or sometimes at all.  I've gotten so used to my best friends being my sisters that I forget I have real ones. I don't let them know when I'm in the ER, meet someone new, have an amazing day, or an awful day.  They normally find out on Facebook.  Lately, it's been difficult to talk to my youngest sister, she drives me insane and raises an anger I haven't felt in years. She's often afraid to talk to me, which makes me feel fucking awful.

I am not emotional, hate tears, hate talking about feelings, terribly hate discussing my past, what makes me ache, hurts my heart, makes me feel.  My younger sister is the opposite, she is sensitive, emotional, so much like our mother. I don't know how to handle her sometimes, I don't know how to relate. She feels I'm being mean to her, and I feel that she's too sensitive. She thinks I'm a cruel person who curses too much, is too honest, too up front.  I think she's too easy to get hurt. Together we are fire and ice, I'm honestly not sure which is which sometimes.  It's frustrating to live with a person whom you love, and have been through a lot with (our childhood had some downs). I know that she holds a lot of our past over my head, I hold how she feels over her head.

I keep hoping we are going to have a great day, then we start out great, but by the end of the day, you'd think world war three was about to start. You'd think my face couldn't get any redder, her voice couldn't get any quieter.  I was hoping that we being together, in my home, would bring us close.  We haven't lived under the same roof for 20 years.  I left home early, had an entire life that she wasn't apart of; she did the same. I'm still hopeful that after a year, we will work through our anger, our love, our uncomfortableness.  I really think that every day we are getting better, until another road block comes up.  At the end of the day, I'm appreciative of her.  I'm glad she's my sister.  No matter how much she makes me pull out what hair, that I'm proud to have earned after chemo..... She's my sister. We have a past, but we also have a future.  I can never express to her how much she means to me, I can't say the words she needs to hear to know that I don't hate her.  I hope that she reads this blog and knows that I care about her.  She means a lot in my life, I am unable to thank her enough for supporting my journey even when it annoys her.  She wants to live her own life, and to be truthful, is a little jealous that I'm living mine.

Thank you Alta for watching my fluffies, Pepper who bites and pees and poops wherever he wants because he's a dick; Gracie Mae who craves human comfort; Hazelnut who can't drink, she somehow gets water on her tail; and Coco who eats when she wants. Thank you for caring for our home, it's my house, but our home.  Each of us adds to its feeling, I don't know if we can live together forever, but I wouldn't have been able to take this adventure without you.  I couldn't take this next step without knowing that even though you get so frustrated with me and are selfish at times, you still care.  I can't make this journey alone; I have my sister, my Mom, my ex-husband, best friend, friends, Facebook friends, and everyone reading this blog, liking my posts, reaching out on LinkedIn.

Thank you to my supporters.... my life is kickass, but it wouldn't be without my village.  Love y'all

The great state of Texas

When you tell people you're from Texas, they immediately conjure up images of cowboys, dust, horses, barbecue, and big, big, big. Although I was born in Tucson, Arizona, I'm from Dallas. All of my memories originate in or around the big D. I've lived in Ohio 18 years, but will always consider myself a Texan. I support everything Dallas, from the Stars to the Cowboys to the Rangers, even though I'm really a college football and hockey fan. I'm supportive of all Texas college football teams (unless they are playing Texas, then I support Texas, Hook 'Em!). My Mom recently moved from the Dallas area to Abilene in west Texas. I flew into DFW on my way to Abilene this past week, for the first time, I didn't stop.  I didn't email/text/Facebook message friends from high school to meet for lunch or dinner.  I landed where I've always felt like home, and immediately boarded another plane to visit my Mom.  I can't explain how weird it feels to potentially never land at DFW and not stay.

I've been in Abilene for a few days, I arrived last Friday, and this town is different from Dallas and Columbus, Ohio. There are two movie theaters in this town, the new one and the old one. My Mother and I visited one of the two breweries in town this past Saturday, the chairs were uncomfortable, dogs were welcome, and the beer was okay. I spent Sunday in my pj's after taking Mom to the airport, and watched movies and Netflix all day. It was glorious, the dogs and I just hung out, it was nice to relax, not worry about plans or doing anything.  Monday began with food at a deli downtown, hitting the bank, and showing up at the tattoo shop my Mom suggested only to stay for six hours.  Yes, six hours..... I had a quote tattooed on my right shoulder, "I don't know how my story will end, but nowhere in the text will it ever read..."She gave up". I've been thinking about this quote for a while, it really sums up this chapter, and the next, and the next.  I also had a vine of yellow roses updated on my lower back that I had tattooed when I was 25, 13 years ago, a tattoo that my friends lovingly purchased for me.  It was my first tattoo; now I have seven.  The tattoo artist also added significantly to the tattoo, it's much larger and no longer a lower back tattoo, now it's a back tattoo.  I love it!

Tuesday in Abilene... after binge watching an awesome Netflix show Sunday to Monday, Crazyhead, I binge watched another awesome show, Defenders, on Tuesday. I watched The Dark Tower at the "old movie theater", had Italian at a pretty good local restaurant and ended the watching Redbox movies that night. Today's plan is to water my Mom's plants, check her P.O. Box, and visit the local museums. Yes, there are museums in Abilene! I'm not sure if they rock or not, but I'm immersing myself into the culture.  I also booked my next adventure...... Cbus to San Fran to Oregon to Seattle back to Cbus. I'm excited for this next chapter!!  I'm not sure how long my book will be, but each chapter signifies that I'm moving forward.  I'm working on my next steps in my career. A friend is researching how to market my blog, I'm researching how to become a consultant, friends and family are contacting me with ideas of how to keep this adventure going (hopefully on someone else's dime).

I'm trying to decide who I am, am I a houser, a community development person, a rescuer, an adventurer, a lazy ass that pays for the YMCA but never goes. Am I a breast cancer survivor, a lousy roommate, sometimes a good friend, sometimes an awesome dog mom?  Obviously, I'm everything, all the things, and sometimes none of the things. Post cancer Randi has gotten divorced, discovered that she needs to learn to cook at least a little, misses cuddling (until I get too hot), seeks adventure, wants to travel, desires more than a 9-5 in a safe/comfortable position, is looking forward to discovering who I am.  I'm 38 and still figuring out who I am, what I want, where I want to go, what type of guy I'd like to be with.  My ex-husband describes my physical type as either hot or a big bear looking dude, he identified that I'm on both ends of the spectrum regarding looks.  I never really pay attention to who I'm attracted to, I just am, or I'm not. A smile is a huge turn on, intelligence and humor are important, having a job or being independently wealthy is pretty awesome, a car isn't as important nowadays with "green" being so environmentally conscious, finding me attractive is nice, loving dogs is even better, recognizing that you can make a difference in this world regardless of how you do it makes me smile.

Yes, I'm still online dating, and thinking of asking random guys on the street, in the store, at the bar if they are single. I'm considering having friends set up a table at a club and giving guys five minutes to get past them for the honor of talking to me.  Although I'm traveling, figuring out who I am, having a partner would still be awesome.  Feeling the flutter of butterflies at a look, text, or phone call would be ideal.  As I'm traveling, blogging, thinking, discovering, I'm keeping my options open.  Perhaps I'll be walking down the street in San Francisco and find a guy who also likes his coffee black, or I'll be in the movies with my bare feet up on the bar at my seat and look over to see a guy smiling back at me noticing my kickass pedicure.  I'm trying to be self-aware, I suck at flirting, I am not the best at smiling back at a guy because I don't notice that they are smiling at me, or I assume they aren't smiling at me. I have no problem talking to people, male or female, I'm loud, I'm straight forward, I am told I can be intimidating, I am also told I'm awesome and fear that I'll outshine some guys.  This isn't a conceited statement.... I mean that a lot of guys aren't as bold as I am.  I feel like I would run them over with my personality. However I continue going about this thing called dating, I'm still enjoying my life, my adventure, writing my chapters as I go.

Vegas Baby

Freedom.... freedom let it ring!!! I'm free from the shackles of work, but not from responsibilities. I'm in Las Vegas, Nevada and it's my first time here. I'm not a gambler, other than my weekly lottery tickets. This city is BIG, I'm from Dallas and didn't understand what BIG meant until I arrived in this bustling city. I've been here a day and am in love with the people watching. All walks of life, different classes of society, and everything in between, converge to enjoy bright lights, bling, sparkles, money, love, and loss in the dessert.

I've visited the best buffet ever at Caesars, rode my first gondola at the Venetian, met an awesome bartender named CJ at Caesars, and an even more kick-ass bartender named Jennifer at the new Robert Irvine restaurant at the Tropicana. Jennifer has my heart, we are soul sisters over whiskey and IPA's, good times, and the journey that is life. I have felt the Vegas heat, currently carrying a wash cloth from my hotel room in my purse to wipe my sweat, and walked 8.5 miles so far sipping from the cup of life. Each Uber and Lyft driver have been fabulous and helped solidify the joys of this city.

I'm traveling with a friend of 20 years, and couldn't have asked for a better traveling companion. I'm complacent at the cost of everything from beer to liquor to cigarettes. It is what it is in this city. Although we booked a kickin' deal for our hotel and flight, food et al makes up the difference. I'm contemplating what the hell I'm going to do after my journey. Teresa has suggested I become a pharmaceutical rep, develop a few apps, no I'm not disclosing but they are ingenious ideas, among other options as I view my future options. Tinder continues to offer slices of maledom including meeting, in person, a nice guy who accompanied me as I tried new whiskey drinks, and has offered to tag along while I'm in Vegas. I was also offered to be dominated by another gent who offered to pull my hair from behind, give me a baby sans condom, and another who offered a Vegas fling. Oh Tinder, how I value your influence and confirmation that I can always get laid.

I'm ending my first night at a piano bar, drinking a Jack and Coke for $11.50 in a cup the size of a Turtle shot (if you don't know what that is, message me), listening to dueling pianos whilst my friend gambles, hopefully coming up roses. I am wearing a tank top, shorts, and flip flops; compared to my fellow women rocking everything from see through dresses to formal gowns and literally everything in between. I have posted about my insecurities, my legs are scarred, my self confidence often waivers, but in this city, who the fuck cares.

I'm excited for this to be my first trip in this new chapter. I'm excited to explore and learn about a new city sans job, sans significant other, sans caring. No one stares at my short hair, ahem it's kicking ass on its own being purple, pink, blue, and green, nobody knows I recently survived cancer, minus Jennifer who learned of my journey thus far.

I love bars, I love the anonimity, I love meeting new people, nay friends, discussing our lives, journeys, struggles and triumphs, and discovering, no, confirming, all of our paths converge for a reason. There's a reason I met Jennifer, there's a reason I met JC, he confirmed my need to visit Seattle and per him fall in love with that city. I'm enjoying, no, I'm fucking enjoying this first leg of my new chapter. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, this journey I'm on has stops for a reason, I'm not to the caboose yet.

Bananas per JBo

I've made the decision to quit my job so I can just be . . I'm going to travel, enjoy life, visit friends and family, check out some places I've never been, and open myself to new opportunities. I've been considering this leap for a few months. Although my job is fabulous in regards to pay and benefits, my soul needs a break. I've slept amazing since making this decision. My friends and family are mostly supportive, if anything they are happy that I'm happy.
I plan to be off for a few months and explore options that I've never considered previously. Consider places I could live and start fresh. I'm divorced, no kids, 4 dogs, hold a few degrees, solid work history, great references, and more important than anything, the support and love of those close to me. I've been working since I was 15, for the first time, I'm going to be off the work leash, focusing on me, my well being, mental health, and reflecting on who I am after the past few years.
I'm more than a breast cancer survivor, but I'm also a breast cancer survivor. I recognize that this decision isn't for everyone. I'll be pulling from my retirement to pay down debt incurred during my marriage, and funding my new adventures. I recognize that building those funds back up will be a challenge, but I also know I'm here today. I feel good about my decision, it's the right time to explore, feel, and enjoy life. I'll return to the work force, but I'm hoping to return in a different capacity. I'm going to look at jobs I would have never considered; once you're at the City, it's difficult to leave which is why I'm leaving now on a good note. No bridges are being burned, friendships will remain intact, Randi will get back to Randi.
If any of you are having heart palpitations, take a deep breath, and remember this is about me and my choices. This is the right decision for me. It's okay to be excited, worried, and scared for me. I appreciate all advice, job referrals, hugs, high fives, and pearls of wisdom. I wouldn't be here if I didn't have such a kick-ass support system.
Yes, I'll blog during my journey. Yes, y'all will know where I am. Yes, I'll be smart about my adventure, I'll check in, use my money wisely, and remember that timelines are important. Setting deadlines is necessary. I really have thought about this, I am ready for what's next for Randi L. Arnett.
In the words of JBo.... This is bananas!

It's lonely out here among the stars....

I am of the true belief that each of us changed the trajectory of the universe the day we were born. The stars were in a specific order the day we graced the world; the ocean tides were ebbing and flowing just for us that day. I don't know if I believe in fate, but I do believe everything happens for a reason. I got cancer so another person wouldn't. I married my ex husband to help us both become better people. I work for my employer because it turns out, I'm very good at my job.

However, I don't know that I believe in true love, or love at first sight, or that there are pre determined people born to be our true love. Love is so all encompassing, it transcends physical attraction towards mutual respect, status, want of children, need for escape. I have been lucky to have met some wonderful men, and unlucky in having met some awful men. I'm an independent woman who appreciates her ability to survive on her own, with her own job, home, car, sense of self worth... I don't need, nor do I desire, a partner to make my life complete. I don't need a man to greet the sun each day, nor say good night to the moon each night.

In saying this, it's nice to wake up next to someone you're excited to talk to. It's exciting to roll over and see a smile meant just for you. I miss coming home to someone who wants to see me as much as I want to see them; bursting at the seams to explain our day, daydreaming of talking to each other about Facebook, emails, phone calls, text messages. I'm also realistic that I would like to start with a dinner, a cup of coffee, a movie, a show. I'd like a guy to respond to a message from an online dating app, to say, "Hello", at the local store with a look of intrigue, and no ring on his finger.

Obviously, I've been officially single more than six months. I've been seeking a partner to do stuff with; I've been hoping for a decent, fun loving guy to want more than sex. I am on multiple online dating sites including Tinder, Okcupid, Plenty of Fish, and FarmersOnly. I've paid for eHarmony, Zoosk, and Match. What have I learned? Everyone wants sex, everyone is interested in blowjobs, everyone says they want to date, meet a person, until a single female messages wanting the same things. I've never met so many men solely interested in literally one thing. I've never met so many men who are cruel, negatively inquiring, crude, truly awful creatures.

My foray into the dating world in my late 30's is the most disappointing journey I've ever been on. My lackluster approach moving forward is purely due to experience. If anyone knows a good guy, who I would realistically be attracted to, let me know. I know that you find someone when you quit looking. I just want a person to have fun with, more than once, more than one date.

The purpose of this post is that I'm lonely, not just for a partner to kiss and more.... I'm lonely for friends, companionship. I have amazing friends, they are supportive, loving, and kick-ass people. However, they are parents and spouses. They aren't available for a movie during the week, a comedy show on a Saturday night, or a walk on the Columbus Ale Trail. I am tired of lonely lunches, tickets for one, smiles that don't reach my eyes when I confirm I'm alone anywhere.

The universe changed the day I was born... Lives were forever affected...if only I could not feel so alone despite technology, friendship, and how awesome I am.

If you don't eat your meat, you can't have any pudding

For me, meat is my meds and pudding is getting through life. I take 7 pills a day, an estrogen blocker to ensure my cancer is not fed, a baby aspirin to prevent other cancers due to my genetic predisposition to other cancers, a multi vitamin, a pill for night sweats, a pill for depression and anxiety, and a pill to control my thyroid. Lately, I am lacking in the area of taking most of these pills. Currently, I'm out of my depression/anxiety and my thyroid medication.

I have been making some poor choices; some professional, some personal. I am a pretty self aware person and recognize I've been making these choices, but haven't been focusing on making different choices. This week, I realized part of my issue is I haven't been eating my meat. I haven't kept up on my prescriptions and as much as it angers me, I need them to survive. I literally can't go through life without them; they keep me sane, able to make better choices, able to feel better about myself, others, everything.

I hate taking medicine, I will wait until a headache is so bad it affects me in other ways before I'll take Ibuprofen. I'm 38, as of last Monday, and it pisses me off to be so reliant on drugs; but at the end of the day, it just doesn't matter how I feel. I need to suck it up, grow up, and fill my pill box every two weeks like clockwork. I can't explain away everything on missing some of my pills, but I can attest that they sure as hell contribute.

I have 3 medications that have been added to my regimen due to cancer. It fucking sucks to take these pills, morning and/or night, each swallow again reminds me I can't go back. However, I need to start looking forward, I need to start remembering that new opportunities will also come out of cancer, it isn't all doom and gloom. I'm trying to find these opportunities as often as possible, I'm working to pull myself up by my bootstraps and march forward, looking forward to my pudding.

I feel pretty, oh so pretty...

I can't identify the last time I felt pretty, let alone beautiful. I wear dresses five days a week because I truly enjoy them and they make me feel pretty... until I look in a mirror and see this short hair, these scars on my legs, bruises that constantly seem to appear and this smile that never reaches my eyes. I felt prettier bald last year, my disease was in plain view.

There was no question why my pale, bald head was on display. No concern that I bruised and scarred easily, it was due to chemo. Strangers didn't judge me for my appearance; I received questioning and pitiful looks but no looks of disgust. I have never felt as unattractive as I have in 2017. I have never felt such an urge to explain why I look like I look.

From the hair to the legs to the unexplained bruising; the resting bitch face, look of sadness; the stomach, belly button, breasts and both sides of my chest. I had a guy look at my stomach scar this year in utter disgust and immediately want to get as far from me as possible. I have been told by at least one guy that he would never date a woman without nipples.

The sight of me naked disgusts me; my scars are so vibrant, so in your face... My once attractive legs are now only attractive from the back. My once voluptuous body is now a constant reminder that I can never go back. I can't exercise enough, can't have enough surgeries to improve this body known as mine.

Prior to intimacy, there now has to be a conversation; an explanation of what to expect under this dress. I have to hope that the opposite sex will somehow look past the obvious imperfections, in addition to the normal ones (stretch marks, extra weight, prior scars received previous to cancer).

I truly didn't expect, or consider the possibility of being treated the way I've been treated this year by men.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder...most of the time, the eye is blue, behind a pair of glasses, with a prescription registered to Randi L. Arnett.

Cancer

Hey y'all, it's been awhile since I've posted.  Today's post is straight about cancer... I survived but a friend's husband and my sister's favorite boss did not in the past year.  Why did I survive when two fathers died?  We all had different stages and types of cancer but cancer knows no friends.  Cancer is a hammer, it sees nails everywhere and hits as hard as it can until the nail is pounded so hard it can't be driven anymore into the wood. This afternoon, my sister received the call that her favorite boss passed away from complications of his pancreatic cancer, he was stage 2.  Last year, a coworker/friend lost her husband after a cancer battle that lasted a few years.  I had stage 2 not even a year ago, but here I am.  I'm currently hating my job, drinking too much, enjoying too much sex and just trying to survive.  I celebrated my year anniversary of my last day of chemo, that was a huge achievement.  I'll be celebrating my year anniversary of being cancer free May 17th, that's still a couple months away.

Many don't understand why I do what I do, they don't understand that my personal gift of existence is hard to swallow.  My personal reason for surviving is difficult on a daily basis, I recently had the remainder of my woman parts removed.... everything.  I no longer have estrogen, breasts, cervix, ovaries, etc. but I'm getting used to my short hair and scars but they both bother me daily.  I am an absolute beautiful mess. I pay my bills, support my friends (I hope), support my family (again, I hope), try to be a good employee (although I've been told I've fallen flat in the past year), and still volunteer when I can.  I try to be a good dog mom, a good ex stepmom, a good friend, daughter, sister, best friend, coworker, I try to be a good homeowner, car owner, bill payer; I try to be good to my body, I recently started going to the gym (it's supposed to help with my hot flashes). I try to maintain a jovial manner in all conversations because nobody wants to hear my fears, depression, or sadness.

I'm surrounded by amazing people who love and care about me and would help me move a dead body, pick me up from the bar, feed my dogs, get me through a bad day.  However, I am still in a place of awe that I survived, I'm a fucking cancer survivor.  It hurts daily that I look in the mirror and see hair that I didn't choose, scars that I now have to explain, pain that I didn't want. I'm trying to survive in all the ways I can, every time I can make a show, a movie, a date; I feel lucky that I was able to attend, show up, participate.  I met with a fellow cancer survivor that had similar cancer to me and we both seem to feel the same.... how do we move on?  How do we not worry that every pain, ache, scar isn't a sign of another cancer?  How do we go to the multiple doctors that we will see for life and not worry that they found cancer in a blood test, tumor removal, scan?  It just fucking sucks to constantly be worried. It just sucks to be concerned that anything could be a sign of something worse.  I went for a fucking mammogram with no family history or signs to find out I had stage 2 aggressive breast cancer.  That will always fucking suck.

I've been online dating which is CRAZY, you have to have a sense of humor to make it through this shit.  The amount of dick pics I've received is crazy, the amount of times I've been offered to fuck, suck, blow is insane.  I'm sure there are decent guys online but I'm not sure how to find them.  When you message guys, they rarely reply, or when they do it's awful grammar, spelling, pictures, no attraction or straight up douche baggery. However I have a good sense of humor and appreciate dragging out conversations that go nowhere just to call bullshit.  I have met a few nice guys, emphasis on a FEW, out of the hundreds that I have messaged or swiped right or left on. I'm not sure if I'm looking for a guy to date, a guy to fuck, a guy to see movies, a guy to seriously date, my person.  I do know that I'd like to have someone to do stuff with and sleep with because damnit I enjoy sex, is that so wrong?  I don't want Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday night guys but man are they out there.  Single life is fun if you make it fun, don't get down if you haven't met the right person; be excited that you're alive able to date, able to choose, able to go to the movies, shows, dinners at your choosing whether by yourself or with another.

I'm alive, I'm surviving, I'm making it each day. Do I make poor choices, absofuckinglutely!!!!  I'm told often that my friends and family are glad I made it, good for me.  Yay.... I didn't choose cancer, I didn't choose chemo, I didn't choose short hair, I didn't choose to miss so much work, I didn't choose to be tired, I didn't choose to fall out of love with my ex husband, I didn't choose to change.... but I have chosen to live.  I've chosen to be me, loud mouth, cursing, curvy me.

The problem with a blog

Good morning, it's Wednesday and I'm obviously going through some things. The biggest issue with a blog is that everyone who reads it wants to fix your issues. Friends and family want to address the concerns and offer solutions. My purpose for having a blog is to have an outlet for me. I write better than I talk and feel more comfortable writing my feelings than sharing them. Although I appreciate every one of you, please don't feel compelled to fix me. I know what my mistakes are, where my skeletons are hidden and who I'm making concerned/mad/upset. I'm fully aware that I'm on a dangerous path. This isn't a new road for me, I've been here before, but this time I have way more to lose.

I am juggling currently, not sure which ball will drop but knowing I can't keep juggling forever. I'm hoping once I'm through surgery, I'll be better. My mind will be more at ease, my dangerous ways will go to the side and my choices will be in more Randi fashion. I'm scattered, all over the place, not the Randi people are used to and appreciate. Currently, I hear whispers of is she drinking too much, is she okay, what's going on with her? I'll tell y'all what's going on with me, I'm scared. I suck at being scared. I've been scared for over a year now. Cancer fucks with you. It fucks with your mind, body and soul. Being told you have cancer with no signs is bad enough. Being told you might have all these other cancers is fucking ridiculous. I'm told I have a small chance of this cancer coming back but a huge chance of these other cancers popping up. And these cancers have little to no warning, but don't worry because having all of your lady parts removed will greatly reduce your chances. You still have to take an estrogen blocker for 5-10 years, and get yearly colonoscopies and an upper endoscopy every three years. You still see an oncologist til you're dead, but don't worry because you probably won't get cancer again.

What if I never chose to get a mammogram in 2015?! Would I have stage 3 or 4 breast cancer? Or would I have stayed at stage 2 until the cancer broke out into my lymph nodes. I know many of you don't understand me and my current state of mind. I wouldn't, it's different for everyone but it's really different when you've never had cancer. Those affected by cancer reading this blog can attest that everyday is truly an opportunity to live. Everyday is a new day in our books, an opportunity to start a new chapter. An opportunity to end a previous story and start a new one. I'm scared.... But I really am trying to not be. I'm trying to work​ through these feelings through therapy, surgery, beer and blogging. Please don't save me, I got this.

What makes a woman?

As I'm coming closer to my full hysterectomy, I'm wondering, what makes a woman? It can't be breasts, mine are gone. It can't be a reproductive system, mine will soon be gone. It can't be estrogen, I'm on two blockers. Is it my smile? My shapely legs? My laugh? My feminine facial features? It can't be my attraction to guys, there are plenty of women attracted to guys, gals and in between. Perhaps it's my maternal nature....LOL. For those who know me, you know this definitely isn't it.

Perhaps it's how I make guys feel when they are around me, loved and safe. I feel more laughter is ensuing....I'm really struggling with still feeling like a woman after all I've been through and are going through. By definition, I feel like I'm losing what makes me female. I would say I know this is silly, but is it? In the span of less than two years, my body has changed and is continuing to change so much. My idea of where I'd be has been altered dramatically, perhaps not for the worse, but still altered.

I'm 37, divorced, trying to maintain a relationship with my stepsons (something I never thought I'd want), breast cancer survivor, full of scars, trying to date in this technological age, learning that worrying does no good and understanding that life really does go on. Life continues after battles of all kinds, heartbreaks, hurt, loss, love gone wrong and love gone right. I realize that my friends are my greatest weapon, they prop me up when needed and bring me down when required. A friend described me as being in a spiral currently, this couldn't be more true. Whether I'm spiraling up, spiraling down or just spinning remains to be seen.

All of my worries and fears are coming out in potentially destructive ways, nothing new to me or those close to me. I'm scared of a third abdominal surgery, of cancer being found, handling being divorced, living with my ex husband, stepson(s) and younger sister and being the landlord and housemom, helping my Mom during her transition, trying to stay ahead at work where I've been a rockstar for nearly a decade but am slowly losing this status. I justify my actions based on these and so many other worries, but sometimes actions aren't justifiable, you just do them to do them. Deep down you know better but you ignore that voice and just keep pushing hoping, knowing it'll work out. After all, it always does.

As I'm contemplating my feminity, I'll continue rocking my dresses and heels and smile when asked how I'm doing. Anything else would be unRandi like...

Scars

Internal, external, physical, emotional... I have all types of scars, they define me as a person and document my journey thus far. Some are from childhood, mistakes, poor choices, surgeries, heart breaks, loss, love. I know that at my base I'm a great person, but that doesn't mean I haven't worked hard to get here. I still do stupid shit, make bad choices, ignore problems, avoid issues. Lately, I've felt really positive about my trajectory of life but this week was hard. I had my port removed, missed a couple days of work due to being sick, realized I really need to address my debt and money habits and started thinking maybe I would like a relationship sooner than I was anticipating. I would like to wake up next to someone who wants me for me, accepts my flaws but applauds and supports my efforts to change/evolve/grow.

I'm not saying I want to get married or have someone move in, but it is nice rolling over and seeing someone you want in your bed beside you. I know that inside I'm going through a lot and outside I'm wearing a smile and putting my best foot forward. I'm scared about my hysterectomy in a few weeks, what type of woman will I be after? Will sex hurt again, will I still want sex, will my hot flashes get worse, will my moods swing or three million other things I haven't thought of. It's my third stomach surgery in as many years, just another scar on an abdomen full of them.

I was asked today to send a naked pic, online dating is weird y'all; in my youth, that would have been easy and fun to tease a guy who I'll probably never meet. Today I thought, do I explain my scars? Do I try to get a shot where my stomach scar isn't as noticeable? No, I'm not sending a naked pic, but it made me pause. When I look in the mirror I see a tired Randi. A Randi who could use a fucking break; no surgeries to worry about, no dating dilemmas, no dogs needing vet appointments, no guilt for drinking too much beer (yes, I know I do), no tears for my journey this past year, no money concerns, no sickness. I know this is all life, it just is what it is, but at some point you just feel drained. My pool is low, the water level isn't what it used to be.

Although I'm enjoying meeting new guys, having sex (safely) and laughing along the way, it would still be nice to be asked on a date. Does that even happen anymore? Or is it all dick pics and meeting over a beer or two? Chatting online is fun but I could really go for a genuine date. I love being told I'm sexy, pretty and cute based on my pics but nothing beats the genuine look in a man's eyes when he sees you and truly means, "you look beautiful". This is sappy stuff coming from me, but I can be a girl every now and again.

The port removal was akin to the end of an era as a friend described it today. I had that port 14 months, I of course have a scar but it was nice to think I don't need any more infusions. I don't have to see my oncologist for three months, no more monthly injections, just my daily estrogen blocker pill. The cancer era is coming to a close, it feels like it ruled my life forever ago, but also not so long ago.