Waiting for the green flag

A Molly never changes its stripes.

I’ve had a really anxious feeling about finally ‘closing the book’ on my Breast Cancer journey.   Just didn’t want to jinx it.  Stupid, I know.   But I do want to apologize to all those who’ve been wondering, “She got her boobs, now what?”  Well, I can now confidently tell you - life goes on.  In fact, most days it feels like all that cancer shit never even happened.

The only physical remnants of that awful disease are a few scars and my new found love for the buzz cut.   Oh yeah, and my new boobs!  Mentally, I am fine.  I did learn that I am who I am – healthy or sick – a Molly never changes its stripes.

So, I’ve poured myself back into my work, which I love (most days).  I’ve started those roller derby lessons I’ve always wanted to do and soon I will begin to train for my ‘come back’ marathon.  My body is healed, my mind is solid and my energy has returned – no excuses remain.

The kids are great – in fact, they are incredible.  Steve is wonderful and so supportive of me and all that comes with it.  It’s funny, we don’t really talk about the Cancer anymore, there’s really no reason to.  It happened…we fought it hard…and we won.

So, thank you (again) to all of you who helped me get through this.  Thank you for taking this incredible journey with me, it was quite the ride.  This is The End of my Cancer story.  Motor on my friends.

Time to do the happy dance.

My surgery was a success – woke up with two boobs instead of one this time!  Although really sore, it’s that “I’ve accomplished something,” sort of pain - kind of like running a marathon.  It hurts so good.  Not sure how they look yet (still bandaged up) but anything is better than what I had before.  Should feel better in a few days and then I’m off to Victoria Secret for the mother of all shopping sprees.  Let’s face it; “the girls” deserve it and so do I.  Time to do the happy dance.

I should be sitting here with some expensive champagne, for tonight is my “New Boob’s Eve.”

As I look back and reflect on 2011 it was clearly the year of “My Boobs.”  Before Breast Cancer came into my life, I promise you, they were not a cause for conversation.  I would rate them average at best.  But throughout the past seven months my family, friends, colleagues (bosses!), clients and dare I say, our family priest, have been exposed to my candid (and sometimes TMI) story of my “girls.”

Well, tomorrow turns the page on the next chapter – the final chapter – the big pay off.  This is the day I’ve been waiting for since June 22, 2011.  The day that I can mentally, emotionally and physically put this journey behind me.   Tomorrow morning, I will have my reconstruction surgery – my boob job.

The secret truth is, I’ve always wanted one – especially after having two kids.  Let’s just say even the small ones go South after awhile (Mums…you know what I mean!)  So, who wouldn’t be happy about a nice, new tight pair?  Granted, I had to go through hell and back to get mine, but I’ll take ‘em!

I should be sitting here with some expensive champagne, for tonight is my “New Boob’s Eve.”  In roughly 12 hours my new story begins.   “Once upon a time, there was a Cancer-free girl, with REALLY short hair and an incredible, new rack….”

My FemBot days are over.

Blogging has taken a back seat to real life.   No wonder I was blog-less before I got Cancer – it requires a clear mind and some free time.   Since I started work three weeks ago, there’s been a significant decline of both of those.  Between work, Christmas shopping, gift wrapping, holiday celebrations and doctor visits; things are quite busy.

Despite the craziness of life, yesterday was a big day on my journey OUT of Cancerville.  Since September I’ve been living with a metal port (for chemo infusions) implanted in my forearm.  It hurt like a bitch when they cut it out, but finally my FemBot days are over.   Just in time…I am off to the airport this afternoon (work trip to Dallas) and may have just saved myself a full body search. 

Back to Chicago on Wednesday.  Charlie and Susie’s holiday sing on Thursday.  Off to Wisconsin for the weekend.  Jetting to Vermont for New Year’s.  A good way to end a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad year. 

January AND bust

One week of work under my belt and it’s like I never left.  Not that I expected it, but there’s no “easing” back into the grind at GH.  I am officially swamped and loving it.  Between the client work, new business pitches and reconnecting with my fellow colleagues – my first week back to GH flew by.   

For those wondering about my “hair or no hair” dilemma, I sported a little of both last week. 

Monday-Tuesday: bald

Wednesday: Unveiled my girl “Victoria” (Beckham) for client meetings.  She’s dark, sporty and has lots of style.

Thursday: Back to bald

Friday: Pulled out “Sasha,” the long flowing (I should be married to a rock star) wig. 

It’s crazy, wig or not, once again, I feel 100% confident in my skin.  The best part of switching up my look is the reaction (or non-reaction) I receive within the hallways.  Even some of my best buds had to do a double take at the fashionable “new girl” with long locks sitting in Molly’s office!

So, this week is equally as busy.  Today, as much as I want to forget about the last four months, I was shoved right back into reality with two doctor appointments.   And as much as I “think” I’m recovered and back to normal, my blood work doesn’t agree.  At least there’s a medical reason behind my aching muscles and late-night exhaustion….

Also on my way to beg my surgeon to schedule a date for my reconstruction surgery.  Lately he has resorted to “playing things by ear” with my boobs.  Well, folks, I’ve been walking around unequal since July and I’m tired of it.  It’s January or bust….err…I guess it’s January AND bust.  Anyway, not walking out of Mr. Plastic Surgeon’s office without a firm date in the surgery ward.  

Beyond today, the week is filled with a new business pitch and the annual GH Holiday Party.  Both are wig-worthy events….only one (depending on my level of consumption) may result in a Sex in the City, Samantha-moment. 

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Back to work today!  I knew I was a badass but now (thanks to Tyler Travitz) I have the picture to prove it.  There’s no way Cancer will fuck with me again.

That would be like taking your Maserati to Jiffy Lube.

Barring any snowstorms, typhoons or locust attacks – I will be returning to work on Monday.  Truth is, I never wanted to leave my job but “the big C” gave me an abrupt, four month sabbatical.  Sure, I complained about the commute, didn’t like waking up early and secretly wished I had an office with a view - but the truth is – I’ve missed my job. 

You would think that with all that time away, I’d be all organized and ready to return to the workforce.  Not a chance.  So this week I am running around like an idiot trying to do all the things I should’ve done while I had the time. 

Today I went to get my wigs cut.  And no, you can’t just walk into any Hair Cuttery to have them serviced.  That would be like taking your Maserati to Jiffy Lube.  I have a special wig stylist who helps maintain my faux hair.  She’s great but I would hate to have her job.  One wrong snip and it’s there for life.  Using “it will grow back” just isn’t an option.

Speaking of, I’ve been stressing about how to handle my lack of hair in the workplace.  Do I just go bald or is that not appropriate at work?  Not that I was the “picture of appropriate” before I lost my hair.  Or do I wear my wigs everyday?  Which by the way, wearing a wig is like having a fur coat on your head – heavy and hot.   

I’m thinking I will do a little of both – just depends on how I feel that morning.  Or frankly, what I am wearing.  Let’s face it; there are some outfits that just require hair.  I already feel sorry for the folks at Starbucks, they won’t know what to think.  “Oh no, that’s my bald, twin sister who orders the Venti, sugar-free, non-fat, vanilla soy, little room, double shot, no foam, extra hot, two pump, pumpkin spice latte.” 

For you I am grateful.

I’ve always been very appreciative of the life I have and the love that surrounds me - but this year is different.  This year I feel like I owe more thanks than I can possibly give.  Sadly, I don’t consider myself very emotional, but this year, I may shed a tear (no pictures please) at the Thanksgiving table.  Tears for everyone of you who helped me through the toughest time in my life.  Cancer has opened my eyes to how big my sphere of support is.  Larger than life.  This journey has enabled me to finally admit that I can’t do it all on my own, for that I am a better person.  For you I am grateful.

I am so bad at thank you notes - obviously because most of you have not received one.  Don’t be offended, I may also be the only mom (maybe in the world) that doesn’t send out cute holiday cards of their adorable families.  Just isn’t my style.

So in the best way I know how (or the one that doesn’t require a stamp) I am going to attempt my thanks to some people who gave me the strength to keep going.  I know I am going to miss someone as I am running out of steam (my apologies)…but here it goes.   Happy Thanksgiving my friends.

Stevie. For never letting me give up. Your love is my greatest gift. Susie and Charlie. For being you. You guys are the reason I live. Mom and Dad. Showing me what it means to love unconditionally through good times and bad. Andy and Darcy. Although far away, I feel your love like you’re here with me. Rees. Your adventures make my heart soar - we climb mountains together. I love you. Lori. Having my back through it all. Running my marathon. Being my best friend. The Currey Clan. Making sure that life went on as normal. May we always have each other and Friday pizza nights. Nanie. Your prayers and love wrap me like a blanket. For you I am thankful. Pete and Stephen. In sickness and in health, at least we all admit we’re crappy friends. XOXO. Kimberly. I get Cancer, you have a baby - next year is going to be so much better, Skinny Bitch. Armour. Telling your ‘once in a lifetime stories’ when I needed a distraction. Building your family of ‘strays.’ Margo and Derrick. Taking care of Mom and Dad. Always being a part of our family through thick and thin. Maguire. For never feeling sorry for me. Cathie. For standing strong for so many years. For creating “A Little Easier Recovery” for warriors like us. MaiWyn. Sharing your love stitch by stitch. Bridget. Walking for the cure in my name. Meant the world to me. Gilmer. Being there for Steve - and me - through it all. Maurya (and the Lomen gang). Love you…my sister. Bubba. Love my candle of power. Love you more.

Lindsay. Letting me peek in on your world travels. For running in my honor. For loving to explore. Lori’s Mom. Answering every Chemo question with love and care. Ryan. For running the marathon for me. I owe you a beer. Ben. For being there when I got the call. Feels like a lifetime ago. I owe you a drink. Jason - my Guz. For always making me laugh. You’re the bomb.com. Abby. Always having a smile on your face. Accomodating my chemo entourage. Making me laugh when all I wanted to do was cry. Kara. For cooking for us. Nothing warms the heart like amazing macaroni. Thank you. John. Always checking in on me.  A friend on many levels. My BP Team. The best team on the planet. Thank you for keepig the BPness alive - can’t wait to get back to you my friends. My GH Family. Twelve years together! I am so grateful for your support through all my life’s up’s and down’s. Special shout out to the Consumer Officer Team…thank you from the bottom of my heart you guys. Gary. For always reminding me what’s truly important in life. Monica Wagner. I hope to celebrate our success stories together over a really stiff drink. Adryan and Michael. My Sonny and Cher. Colleen. My favorite nurse. For keeping Steve calm and always informed. For truly caring.

My Facebook Feel-Good Team. Your notes and words lifted me in my darkest days.  Thank you.  Jessica L., Wade L., Cameron M-C., Sarah V-S., Melissa B., Ashley L., Michael M., Diana B., My Aunt Sheere, My Uncle Billy (Cancer Survior!!), My Cousin Kailee, My Cousin Rick, My Cousin Casey, Nicole, My Cousin Colin, Laura K., Sarah B., Christina W-S., Laura C., Debbie W., Deena R-T., Josh R., The entire Seacrest Family, Derek G., Ryan T., Susan B-C., Trina G-S., Elizabeth G-W., Angie H-K., Lisa E-B., Betsy Z., Alicia H., Brooke J., Tom T., Elana T., Julie A-H., Robert A, Chelsea M., Adryan D., Patrick M. (I &II), Scott F., Mitch D., Jered T., Haley B-A., Amy K., Carrie VdS, Zandra Z., Betty M., Tony R., Scott H., Tyler T., Steve B., Amber P-C., Erica L., and all those that I missed who shared their words of support along the way.

I mean seriously, I need to go back to work.

Finally, I got out of the house to do something.  Not sure a mani/pedi counts as “something” but I did it!  Swung by my new favorite time-killing store, JoAnn Fabrics for an hour and then called it a day.  Newest project – to sew a kids “catch all” for the back seat of my truck.  An organizer with pockets that holds all the books, water bottles, crayons, etc. that usually ends up on the floor.  There are thousands of things I could attempt to make, and that’s what I pick?  You don’t even have to say it, I know, I have officially lost my mind – or at the least my “working mother” card.  I mean, seriously, I need to go back to work. 

 All that activity and I am beyond exhausted.  There’s no doubt for one last time, Chemo still has its claws in me.  The more I fight it, the more frustrated and overwhelmed I get.  I should be happy that it’s done (I AM, I AM) but it makes me even more anxious for my big come back.  Like Britney Spears….not her first, her second try.

A tribute to our favorite place in Chicago.  Elysian Hotel will always have a special place in our hearts.  Long live big dreams.

Roughly 10 more minutes until I am officially done with my chemo adventure – or chemo circus as Lori and Steve made it out to be (hence the juggling show and Lori’s late night escapades).  I am happy to have my entourage back for my final infusion; it definitely makes the time go faster.  Hard to believe this is over – like, really over.  I am ready to say goodbye to my big blue chair.  Ready to walk out of here knowing I don’t have to come back in three weeks.  Chemo…been there, done that.  It’s a good feeling my friends.  Off to have sushi and celebrate with my clowns.

I’ve spent more time inside my head than I’ve ever wanted to.

Was up most of the night.   It’s crazy where your mind goes when you’ve got nothing to do but think.  I am fairly confident it was the steroids at play, but I always have crazy thoughts and never seem to sleep the night before Chemo. 

Three hours until the final infusion.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jK-NcRmVcw. 

Hopefully, today will mark the last time (EVER!) I have to sit in the big blue chair while they pump Cancer-killing chemicals through my body.  Truthfully, I never wanted to go through Chemo, I was devastated to have to make the choice.  But Steve and I promised each other we’d fight this Cancer hard and do everything in our power to kill it.  I am confident we have.  Physically, I’ve been pricked, stretched, injected and cut open.  Mentally, I’ve been through a series of up’s and down’s – I’ve spent more time inside my head than I’ve ever wanted to!  But it’s all part of the journey and life-changing experience that was forced upon me (and my family) on June 22, 2011.  My last Chemo is a huge milestone on my Cancer journey.   Today marks the Final Countdown to getting my green flag and rejoining the race.

Seems my daughter Susie has the gift of script.  This one is my favorite.

I am a waterfall.

I am the flow of the sky.

I bring boats down.

I am so beautiful and unique.

I change the way water flows.

I go crashing down.

I am never still, I never stop going.

I am the blue in your eyes.

I am the wish of the wind.

I am the stars shining above.

- Susie Currey, age 8

Tonight is parent teacher conferences and between Susie and Charlie we have four different teachers to see.  Susie is in third grade and Charlie started Kindergarten this year.  I always look forward to these annual meetings – so far, they’ve all been very good experiences (knock on wood).  Susie is now in advanced math and reading – she’s so smart.  The math she is doing puts me to shame…come on, there’s a reason I work in PR!  And Charlie, well…it doesn’t get sweeter than “The Char.” 

They say that having kids is another chance at life.  An opportunity to make an impact on generations to come.  Ultimately they are an outward reflection of yourself.   This picture certainly makes that point. 

Steve and Charlie - the cutest boys in kindergarten.

 

One month to go.

Yesterday I got a taste of my “old” life.  Alarm clock went off at 6 a.m. and had to scour through my closet to find an outfit I felt confident in.  I found it’s not that easy when I’ve been wearing sweatpants for four months.  Dressed in all black sporting my favorite wig (which after much debate, I decided to wear), I jumped in my truck and made the commute downtown to attend a BP brand strategy meeting.  Crazy, I haven’t done anything “strategic” in so long…come to think of it, I haven’t muttered the words “strategic” or “creative platform” or “integrated” since I left work.   Those words aren’t used much in Suburbia.  Just doesn’t seem right to tell Susie we need to brainstorm an appropriate platform for her next book report.  Or that Charlie should consider being more strategic when choosing which toy to bring for show and tell.

Anyway, I have to admit I felt a bit nervous walking into a room filled with clients and agencies who all (well, most) know my story.  Do I look sick to them?  Would I be able to contribute after being away for so long?  Will my energy hold up?  Well, my fears were all put to rest the moment I walked into the conference room.  I was back in the game.

It was a long, but very good day.  I was able to contribute to the conversation (haven’t lost it!), saw some of my favorite people and, as always, reminisced about the crazy times we’ve had.  It was exactly what I needed to psych myself up for going back to work in December.  It’s funny, four months feels like a long time, but reality is, not much has changed.  There’s still work to be done, brainstorming to do and plans to write. 

One month to go.  One month and Monday’s take on a whole new meaning again.