5 Years

Howdy y'all, it's been a few years. I had a breakthrough yesterday while celebrating my 5 year cancerversary. I had a fabulous day with my best friend, her husband, and both of my beautiful nieces. They worked to make my day special, hosting me in Florida, taking me out for drinks, I spent quality time with my nieces. I am so appreciative that friends, family, and all of FB wished me congratulations, reminded me how loved I am. This year is monumental, I'm significantly less likely to have cancer return, I'm eligible for life insurance again, I'm that much further from talking about my cancer often. Yesterday, I also had a realization......my survivors guilt is real. It's overwhelming, it has allowed me to justify my decisions. I have been on a downward spiral, I have been running to rock bottom with no fear.

I have been reckless with my health, my finances, my friendships, relationships, etc, etc. I realized that I don't understand why I'm here. So many in my life see me as a good person, a giving person, a person everyone can rely on. And, I am, I am all of these things. I truly enjoy helping others, so much, it's often a detriment to myself. I have this guilt that if I don't help when I'm capable, I'm a bad person. I don't know how to say No, I don't know how to not be the person people rely on. 

My depression has been crippling in recent years, it's been a constant companion. Anxiety has joined my circle as a stalker of my joy. Why am I here? Why did I beat cancer? Why did the universe alert me to push for a mammogram when there were no signs, no family history, no issues? Many of us have lost someone to cancer, particularly breast cancer. I lost a friend to a similar cancer as mine shortly after beating it. She chose not to be as aggressive, she didn't embrace the bald head, she wasn't willing to go through the aggressive chemo and didn't choose to lose both breasts. She was a wife and mother, and her journey ended with breast cancer; my journey continued. 

I need to climb out of this survivors guilt, I need to become the Randi I used to be. I have the capability of being truly happy, I have the ability to help others while not draining myself. I need to reset my boundaries, find a balance between being here for a reason and being here for me. I am so tired of being unhappy, not caring enough about me and my life. 

2021 Randi is going to face her fears, find ways to look up, and figure out how to get back to me. This journey is continuing for many reasons, only I can make them positive ones.

My mask is falling off

I just want to jump into the ocean and float.....face down at times, but mostly face up. I wake up every day and help whomever I can. Fluffy, non fluffy. I'm tired..

Deep breath

It's June 6, 2019 and I am in a bad place. I have been quietly dealing with my depression for months. I have been up and down at work, financially fucked myself, and wanted to secretly drink myself to death. My doctor is concerned about my liver levels, my blood pressure isn't controlled, my mental health is suffering. I schedule transports, Meals on Wheels, and other ways to help others to force myself to leave my house. Helping others has always been my passion, but I've lost my joy. I try to help everyone, but often feel alone when I need help.

I am divorced with a great ex husband, great friends, an amazing Mom, and I can't find anyone to help me when I put out the call.....other than Chuck. I help those who are in bad situations, those who need financial help, animals that can't speak for themselves..... people who need a hand up. My joy is lost.....my self purpose is cloudy. If I didn't have dogs, I would run away. Fuck these bills, fuck these student loans, fuck my constant feeling that if I can help, I should. So many are content not contributing to society.....so many sleep at night without the aid of whiskey....so many don't care if a friend needs help, if it inconveniences them, they don't lose an ounce of sleep, their brains and hearts don't consistently make them feel selfish.

I haven't taken my meds in months, I just don't care. I haven't felt like Randi in months, and I just don't care. I've seen my doctor, we talked about what I need to do.... I told her what I need to do. I need to get back on my medication, go see a therapist, realize that if I don't put on my oxygen mask, how can I put others' on? I know what I need to do; I know what steps to take; I recognize that depression has a grip on me. I know

I am so scared my cancer has returned, or will return. I've lost a few women in my cancer circle over the past year. It's so fucking hard to focus some days.....is that pain a concern, are those labs a concern, why have I had a nasty cough for over six months? Can I just give up and leave? No. Can I just stop paying my bills? No, but I have.

I'm suicidal in the way that I'm done with this stop on my journey.....not jump off a bridge way. I'm depressed and know I am because I'm more self aware than most. I'm resilient in the fact that I've always been able to figure it out.... I can't this time. The hole I've dug is too deep, the choices I've made are too long lasting. Where to go from here?

I have a plan. Therapist appointment scheduled Monday; going to talk to a bankruptcy attorney; stop using the bar as an outlet, get my ass out driving for Uber and Lyft to hustle. Work is getting better.... recognize that online dating isn't real, at least not for me, it's an outlet to share how fucked up being single today is. I have to put my oxygen mask on and be able to breathe before I can expect a partner to join this dumpster fire that is my life. However, dumpster fires can be extinguished and dumpsters can be replaced. I'm not a dumpster....it's a metaphor, lol.

I am really looking at starting a vlog, I'm looking at how to lose weight (I currently don't look great in a dress which is my cue), I'm looking at walking, finding a bike, in some way moving this body. I'm 40 in a few weeks, is that unconsciously bothering me? I didn't think so, but maybe. I'm trying kids.... Please know that I'm probably going to pop off the grid for a few to focus on getting Randi back. She's drowning, but she knows her life rafts. Don't send a search party.....don't organize an intervention.....I'll get myself back, it just may take a hot minute.

My love

I love you

What does this mean? For me you're important to me... You understand my proclivities.... You understand and appreciate my scars.... You want to see my face when you wake up... You want to hear my accomplishments.... You're appreciative of my failures.... You view my internal and external scars as signs that I've lived life ... You see my beauty when I don't... You view my insecurities as strength when  I can't... You see me as me.... You view my humor as your own .. You view my scars as a accomplishment instead of a deficit... You love me for me...

As a person, this would be ideal...a goal... As a breast cancer survivor, I can only hope. My brain, heart, and soul are your priority as yours are to mine.

We would be each others cake... And we would be satisfied eating each other.

Tribe vs Village- NSFW

This post is in regards to my recent visit to a young breast cancer survivor symposium, if you are one of my nieces, nephews, or a friends parent, please note that there is cursing and some sexual content included.  NSFW means not safe for work

I am one lucky bitch..... I have a village of individuals, friends, previous coworkers, family, and Facebook friends who have followed and supported me during my breast cancer journey.  This village threw me a benefit, took me to appointments, sent words of encouragement, among many, many other things.  This past weekend, I learned the difference between my village and my tribe.  I attended a young survivor coalition symposium where 150 women gathered to share their stories, experiences, and feelings surrounding being a woman under 40 diagnosed with breast cancer.  This organization is celebrating 20 years this year, and this was my first symposium.  I am hesitant to attend anything breast cancer related, because I strive to be a positive person, and a lot of women have a lot of feels surrounding their diagnosis and journey and the event/meeting tends to be negative and fucking sad.  I chose to attend this symposium due to the topics being discussed, specifically surrounding sex and body image issues.  I learned that these women are my tribe, they understand this leg of my journey; they understand how I feel when I am scared of cancer coming back, or feeling uncomfortable with the changes in my body from surgeries resulting in scars.

I couldn't be happier that I chose to attend!!!  The panels were informative and engaging, there was encouragement to ask questions, assist other women with their concerns, and just be yourself.  I am blunt, loud, and curse; I am a no holds barred type of gal who isn't for everyone.  However, I felt right at home with a variety of women, some shy, some shy. There are survivors that were diagnosed close to my diagnosis date, there were women with metastatic cancer, there were newly diagnosed women, and women over a decade out from diagnosis.  We were different colored lanyards to identify our status so we could seek each other out.  I really gained a lot from the sessions, I need to live my truth, I don't owe it to any man to discuss my diagnosis.  I really struggle with this..... I want to be up front and talk about myself and my life, but some men don't want to be involved with a women who's gone through this.  They aren't prepared for the physical, emotional, and mental scars; and that's okay!!! I am at times embarrassed to discuss my journey thus far, I don't want pity, or to hear, "But you made it!".  I don't want anyone to look at my breasts and say but at least they look good!  Every time I'm naked, it's a reminder of chemo, surgery, and pain.

At this symposium, a sex therapist suggested writing a letter to your breasts and/or body saying goodbye to the old and welcoming the new.  She feels that identifying how your body, and it's parts, assist you in life is helpful for moving to the next stage.  A woman discussed how she's always struggled with loving her stomach, but was able to identify what a wonderful cat throne it is. We had a short session of meditation, focusing on the part of our body that we really struggle with accepting.  I thought it would be my mid section, but it was my right leg that is covered with dog bites that will never heal.  My mid section is only seen by me, doctors, and lovers (or potential lovers). My leg however is seen everyday by everyone.  It's ugly, and really mars my great legs.  I catch people staring at it, wondering what the fuck happened.  During this meditation session, I focused on the fact that I have legs;  I can walk, run, and sit on them; I still look good in a dress, just not the same as before.

The same therapist suggested that during sex, if my partner is uncomfortable with my body, then I can wear lingerie and never take it off.  I feel that this advice was helpful for other women, but for me that isn't an option.  I don't want to have sex where I don't take my clothes off, unless it's really hot, and you're having to be quick. As I stated I am comfortable with my scars, they represent what I've gone through, and I can't wait to get tattoos to represent my journey and beautify myself.  I am not a woman to wear clothing to cover myself up for someone else's benefit.  Again, for some women, this isn't just an option, it could be a life saver for their sex life.  There were many women at the symposium who haven't had sex since surgery because they are scared. How will their bodies feel?  Will they have feeling?  Will anything hurt?  Will their partners be accepting?  What if they only have one breast, or no breasts; will they still be seen as attractive?  What if they had surgery to recreate breasts but there have been complications and their breasts aren't symmetrical?  There are so many issues surrounding your body image after going through a traumatic ordeal.

There was also discussion surrounding women who haven't gone through what we've gone through, but have the same body image issues.  Guys fall into this category too.  Showing your most vulnerable self to a partner is scary as fuck.  What if they notice that stretch mark, what if they hate my new belly button (I kind of wish I wouldn't have gotten one, it's just weird, and literally has no purpose other than me needing to clean it); what if they thought you were thinner but then you take off your shaper and they see rolls, and OMG fat....... I left this symposium with a renewed self worth, I don't it to anyone to discuss my scars unless I'm comfortable, and if they run, it's better to know now. If they want to see what I'm referring to, there are plenty of images on the internet. If they see these images and are horrified, then it's better we get that out of the way.  I don't want to immediately discuss my stop along the journey concerning surgeries and chemo, and it's okay if I tell a guy that exact thing. 

We discussed erotica, different lubricants, and that it's normal to be dry. We all need to be moisturized, from our skin to our interior.  There were tears during this past weekend, women recognizing that what they've been experiencing is normal, and they aren't alone.  My tribe of women have been through so much, but the healing starts with each one of us.  Breast cancer is a small part of Randi, it does not define me.  Yes, I am reminded daily; yes, others remind me; yes, when I look in the mirror I see hair that isn't mine, I see scars that shouldn't be there, I see a tattoo that I chose to get on my right wrist to remind me that I beat cancer, score is 1 Randi and 0 BC.

Fucking dating

Don't do it.... Don't download that app... Don't give out your Kik name.... Just stop. Obviously, I have followed none of this advice. I've been on every dating app from Bumble, Plenty of Fish, Tinder, Zoosk, eHarmony, Match to Farmers Only. Yes, I do have a Kik account, it's a way to message and share photos without exchanging numbers. I have a Google phone number so I don't give out my real number. I have communicated with obvious spam, guys who only want one thing, or a few things, but not what I want. I have received multiple pics and videos of body parts that I haven't requested. I have worked to engage guys who are so boring, they admit they have nothing to say or contribute. I have questioned my beauty, heart, intelligence, sense of humor and sense of self worth.
I have tried to meet men for coffee, food, or drinks only to learn they will only meet if certain services are guaranteed. I have been solicited, yes, in that way, more than once. I am an expert on calling men out on multiple topics ranging from b.s. to spam to you obviously only want blank.
I have never felt so gross in my life then strangers only complimenting body parts, or providing their view of what I must be good at doing, or what I can provide them.
Caveat.... I only deal with dudes, but I hear chicks aren't much better sometimes.
Online dating and finding a job are synonymous; I'm putting my best foot out there to learn I'm not what they are looking for. I recently deleted every app from my phone because none have been useful. I've paid for sites, used free sites, downloaded recommended sites. I've tried smiling, rewriting my profile, giving the benefit of the doubt. I've felt uncomfortable, been told I'm fat, unattractive, crazy for doing dog and cat rescue, had nasty comments about my scars.
I have story after story of my negative experiences, and yet, I kept trying. Surely, there are decent guys who'd appreciate a woman like me. I'm cute, maybe even pretty, smart, independent, I don't want kids, great dog mom, lived some life, good sense of humor, etc., etc. However, in this hookup culture, these traits go out the window. Am I good in bed, or giving a blow or hand job, do I like anal, how big are my breasts, am I into threesomes, looking to date an open guy or couple, am I comfortable with BDSM, or being dominant, or submissive. On, and on, and on.
Dating in today's society is cruel, unrelenting, and just fucking tough. I've made my list of who I'm looking for and tossed it into the universe, hoping for a happy return. I am focusing on me, finding a job, and organically finding my person. For those still fighting the good fight online, I feel for you and hope your experience trumps mine positively 10 times over. I know my worth, and I'm fucking worth the right guy knowing that and appreciating me for all that I have to offer, including having a great smile and a love of TRex.

2 years...damn

I celebrated 2 years cancer free May 17, 2018!!! Can y'all fucking believe that?!!! I had new and old friends come celebrate with me, it was a joyous day and I felt on top of the world. Two years ago, I made it through my 13 hour surgery to be recliner ridden and in the most severe pain of my life. This year, there was no pain, but there were tears. I don't know any survivors of serious ailments who aren't taken aback that they were spared by this world. I don't know anyone who doesn't tear up when they start down the path of what if..... What if I never asked for my mammogram.... What if insurance hadn't of covered it.... What if I'd only gotten a regular mammogram and not a 3D mammogram.... What if I hadn't of had a supportive work place... What if I hadn't of had such an amazing support system.... What if.... What if.... What if
The important thing is, those what if's are in the past. I am lucky, grateful, and truly heartfelt at the support and love I've received. The world would be a different place without me in it, 😉.
I am grateful to my ex husband, best friends, acquaintances, family, and everyone in between and around the edges for being part of my village. Although May 17th is a milestone for me, it's still a regular day for most of the world. There aren't monuments dedicated to me; there aren't millions of people celebrating my life and victory over cancer; there wasn't a reporter on hand to document post cancer Randi. However.... There are people who have been affected by my diagnosis and recovery.... There are people who celebrate my life as I celebrate theirs.... I have been on TV twice talking about being diagnosed under 40.
Although this date will be special to me until the end of my time; what's been more special are the people that understand and appreciate the significance of the date. I've posted about the importance and memory of three dates associated with my breast cancer, I doubt there will ever be a year where they don't invoke strong emotions. As the survival years pass 2, 3, 10, etc., I am grateful to the people who have hopped on and off this train through its multiple stops. I'm still here bitches, where's our next stop?

It's been a minute....

I haven't posted nearly as often as I did during my cancer leg of my journey. I have failed at posting during my travels, but please know that I have enjoyed each new city and adventure I've been on. I've met amazing people, seen amazing places, and proved to myself that I am as independent as I've always thought. Traveling alone is scary, you are your own resource; as someone who routinely gets lost, the thought of having a dead phone while at dinner in a new location is terrifying. I get lost in Cbus, and have looped 270 more times than I care to admit.
I've stayed in hostels, utilized the app Couchsurfing, learned how to keep my phone charged, and relished the power of being polite and courteous, particularly when needing directions or information. In Seattle, I flew to an island and hiked and canoed while gazing at the luminescence of the ocean. I listened to the wave organ in San Francisco while watching the ships move past. I'm an expert mushroom hunter and sea lion observer from my stay in Oregon. I convinced a friend to take a boat around the bay to view gorgeous homes, sea life, and ocean tranquility in Maine. I fell in love with Austin, the people, the night life, food, and music. I continue to have a love affair with Boston and the ocean that holds my heart hostage, rocky and forbidding. I am still sweating from the humidity of Florida where my best friend forever resides.
The awe and grace of the Grand Canyon will forever take my breath away. I am a Vegas connoisseur after visiting twice within a few months and facing my fears jumping off a tower and riding rides at death defying heights at the top of hotels. I appreciate the beauty and awe inspiring architecture of an old city in Canada where I entered a basilica and left with a renewed passion for that which is old. I visited ruins and old towns in my birthplace in Arizona, and can attest to dry heat....it's fucking hot. I have seen family that I haven't seen for years and felt the love only family can offer, blood or otherwise.
If your heart has been pulling you to travel.... listen. There is so much beauty on this earth, and we only have so much time to view and appreciate. Don't keep that passport locked away, get some stamps, view some wonders of the world, break through your comfort zone. The world is waiting....

Universe

The universe is an ever expanding marvelous place where literally everything calls home. We often throw thoughts, feelings, hopes, and dreams out into the universe in hopes that it knows best. For some of us, this is equivalent to leaving fate in God's hands, for others, like myself, it's a part of us hoping fate is smiling and willing to provide direction, guidance, or a few million dollars our way. I have always believed that everything happens for a reason; I married to find one of my best friends, I developed cancer to prevent someone who wasn't as strong/didn't have insurance/ didn't have support from having to fight the disease, and my dogs came into my life to teach me love, patience, and strength.
I enjoy reading about the universe, and the multiple theories surrounding this vast space full of everything from goldilock planets to black holes. I too throw hope into the wind hoping the universe will boomerang back some guidance or assistance. Currently, I'm shooting thoughts for a great job, and a great guy into the dark in hopes of receiving some great things.
I have been through a lot in my 38, nearly 39 years, but currently it feels like the toughest test yet. I am hopeful that fate, the universe, the great turtle in the sky will grace me with some happiness and satisfaction, but I'm also realistic that I control my destiny. In this realization is the thought that I need to take the reigns and determine the best direction for my journey to continue.
Although I'm feeling at a loss currently, between my abilities and the mysterious universe, I am confident that a job worthy of my skills, talent, and education will manifest in the nick of time. I am hopeful that the next leg of my journey will be full of smiles, less tears, and reduced stress than the current leg. For those who still believe in destiny, know that I'm riding the same star as you through the galaxy.....past the Milky Way, avoiding black holes, and staying true to my hope that all of the positive thoughts are making their way through the comets and dark matter to return a little bit of light.

Austin vs Cbus

I returned from an awesome week in Austin, Texas knowing that relocating back to my home state was the absolute right choice for me!  I love the weather, the people, the vibe, the open mindedness, the lake, and dogs that were everywhere!!  I reconnected with a friend from high school and my favorite cousin and his fiance.  I met a couple of new friends and found a realtor I really like. We drove around the city looking at small rentals for the price of my current mortgage and discussing how big a yard my dogs need and how will I fit all of my shoes. It was a true testament to the amazingly hot housing market, including rental, in Austin.  I saw duplexes, single family homes, places that were 700 and 800 square feet.  Each visit made me wonder how I'm going to down size, there aren't basements and very few garages in that city.  Where would I store Christmas and my rescue stuff? 

I met such nice people at each bar and restaurant I visited.  I enjoyed walking around the lake seeing tons of people out being healthy, walking their dogs, running, and bicycling. It made me imagine myself enjoying the fresh air, walking, checking out new spots. I loved driving around the city in my rental car imagining myself driving during rush hour, going tubing on the lazy river nearby to Austin. I have always thought that I would return home, I've been in Ohio 18 years, and never admitted to myself that this place is home.  I've lived in my current home for the longest amount of time at one address, I can't believe I've made it through a few licenses not changing the address. I have made nearly every friend I have in Ohio, the thought of starting over to find new friends at 38 is scary as hell.  I have a friend who transfers with her job every few years and is resilient and makes new friends in each city she lives.  I know that I can do the same, but I'm trying to decide if I want to. 

Is my want to move to Austin because I've always told myself I would go home someday?  I'm trying to figure out why I haven't identified Ohio as home.  I can hike trails here, go to dog friendly restaurants, hang out with my friends, and keep my furniture and my house where my dogs are welcome.  I can continue working out, when I'm cleared to do so which feels like forever, I'm still in pain from surgery.  I am able to go to a professional hockey game, every now and then catch a Longhorns game when a sports channel has some sense, continue my work in rescue and transport to Mansfield, Ashland, and on occasion North Carolina, in Cbus. I'm watching The Mindy Project currently, highly recommend it's on Hulu, and the main characters fiance suggests moving to Austin and finding a weekly barbecue joint.  I am a pescatarian, there aren't too many bbq spots that welcome "my kind", lol.

I'm worried that I've been running since leaving my job and am very scared of returning to reality.  I've thoroughly enjoyed traveling, waking up whenever the fuck I want, reconnecting with family and friends, and seeing parts of this country I never thought I would.  I am concerned that I won't find a great job with great benefits that I truly enjoy.  Perhaps I'm just trying to keep running by moving to another city, and starting over, except I'd have to sell my house, downsize considerably, find a job, find a place that will take my dogs, leave most of my friends, identify that I'm from Ohio but really Dallas although I've been gone nearly two decades.  Cancer really fucked with my head, and I know that I wouldn't have made a lot of choices I've made if I hadn't gone through the journey.  However, I'm still positive that the journey has continued through twists and turns for a reason, I don't regret any of my decisions.

I'm not sure where I'll be in a month, the next quarter, or 2019. What I do know is that I'm going to continue being open to new experiences, feeling okay if I change my mind, comfortable with people questioning my choices, okay with feeling alone (although it feels pretty often), and moving into 2018 with fervor and excitement. Although my year started with another fucking surgery, obvious confusion about my future, and yet more fucking awful online dating experiences...... it's going to be okay, life is going to work out, and the next stop on my journey will present itself as the universe feels it needs to.

Austin city limits

I have really struggled with a plan on what to do since I left my job and started my hiatus.  I have talked about moving, selling my house, and starting over. I have nothing holding me in Columbus; the housing market is strong so selling my house should be easy, I don't have kids, I'm not married, I don't have a job to leave. I've talked about leaving Ohio since I arrived, I never in my wildest dreams imagined I'd be in this state for nearly two decades.  I have been extremely lucky to have had great jobs, met my best friends, been married, been a stepmother, become a home owner, and get involved in dog and cat rescue. I have had ups and downs, sideways adventures, heartbreak, heart revival, learned that I really can do anything from surviving cancer to earning a Master's degree. I am at a point where I need a change, I want to do something different, go somewhere new.

I've decided to leave Ohio and move to Austin, Texas.  I've missed my home state since I left at the age of 20, and although a good portion of the state is conservative and old white men rule, Austin has stayed weird and I love it.  I always have a great time when I visit, and I've said if I returned to Texas, it would be to Austin. I plan to apply to law school at UT, I could finally become a real longhorn!  Obviously there is a lot of planning to do, like find a job, a place to live, sell my house, tell my hot flashes to calm it down. I'm excited, scared, and ready for this next chapter.  Although I will miss everyone in Ohio, I'm a plane ride away, and it's going to be a couple of months before I roll out.  I'm going to start studying for the LSAT, I have study materials ordered and being shipped from Amazon.  I've always thought I wanted to be a veterinarian when I grow up, but really, I just want to help animals, and people in need. I feel being a lawyer will open up so many opportunities for me to make a difference in the areas I care about.  Mind you, being accepted to law school is hard..... being accepted to UT Austin is harder. I may move down there and never be accepted, but I know that moving from Ohio is definitely my next chapter.

I am flying to Austin at the end of the month, there's a law day at the university I would like to attend, and I want to wander around the city a little. I'll be staying at a hostel, this time I booked a co-ed room which will be interesting.  I am so excited to start this new adventure!!!

Travel, travel, travel

My last day at my job was August 4th, five months ago!  I can't believe that I actually followed through leaving a government job, traveling, and enjoying the hell out of myself during this hiatus.  I have been to Seattle, Oregon, San Francisco, Abilene and Austin Texas, Boston, Maine, New Hampshire, Florida, Montreal, Vegas x 2, and the Grand Canyon.  I loved the east and west coasts, that is the ocean I aspire to stare at and find my peace.  I was able to see friends, family, and meet new people.  I wouldn't say I have the travel bug, but I was proud of myself for staying in hostels, walking in new cities alone, seeing amazing art, sharing my pictures, and learning more about this great nation.  Although my BFF lives in Florida, it has been confirmed that it's much too hot there.  I loved Boston, but the cost of living is crazy, and those winters..... I loved Oregon, but where I would want to live is outside the city, slim pickings on jobs. I went mushroom picking, visited Crater Lake (despite a white out, the drive there and back was gorgeous), hiked along beaches, and saw life everywhere I turned from sea lions within reach to organisms in cracks within the beach along the ocean.  Seattle was a blast, I met a guy with a plane, and we went to an island with his dog and a friend to stay at his cabin.  I was in a canoe for the first time, rode in a small plane for the first time, and saw luminescence in the ocean for the first time (it's beautiful). I gambled one time in Vegas, and confirmed that I'm not a gambler, but I am a bit of a dare devil (confirmed by jumping off the Stratosphere). I was able to meet my favorite cousin and his fiancé in Austin and confirm how much I love that city. I can verify that Abilene isn't a place for single people, but the families that live there love it.  

I've been to a few concerts, met some local comedians and expanded my night outs to include comedy shows in craft stores. I have reflected on why I left the City, why I chose to jump into life with both feet, and a basic outline of a plan.  I have been able to get back involved in rescue, and have helped save the lives of quite a few puppies, dogs, cats, and kittens.  I have discovered that I'm not a good home body; I prefer to be out, meeting new people, learning about new experiences, discovering the city I've lived in for 17 years.  Columbus has grown exponentially since I moved here, the beer and food scenes are on point, the comedy scene is amazing, and there is always something to do.  It's been nice to travel knowing I have a home to return to, I don't think I could be a vagabond. I hate to admit it, but my traveling lifestyle will soon be behind me.  I have one more trip to Florida planned next week, otherwise I'm on the job boards, updating my resume, trying to find a position that would value me as much as I'd like to value the job and organization.  I don't know if I'll go back to government, or even stay in the same industry. I'd love to find a new challenge, something that uses my knowledge and experiences for the greater good. I'll settle for a position if I have to, money doesn't grow on trees after all, but I'm hoping to hold out as long as I can for the right position.  I'm extremely grateful for the past few months, traveling has been more fun than I imagined. 

New Year's Day

As I'm sitting here eating Jell-O and drinking vegetable broth, preparing for my colonoscopy and upper endoscopy tomorrow, my heart is heavy.  Today, the 1st day of 2018, a friend is grieving her husband who passed away suddenly yesterday, and another friend is across the country saying goodbye to his mother as she succumbs to cancer.  There are few to no words capable of describing what they are going through; it is hard to see those you care about suffer knowing you can do nothing for them.  The first day of a new year always feels like an opportunity to do anything to improve yourself, to take those to do's off the list and get them done, to take a hard look at your life and make a conscious choice to change what's negative, throw away toxic people, start taking charge of your health, begin looking for a job or career that fulfills your heart and soul.  This day is just a day, any one of us are capable of making these changes throughout the year, on a Wednesday, or in June.  The beginning of a new year feels like a fresh start, you've never lived in 2018 before, you've never woken up on this January 1st. I'm not one for resolutions, if you want to change, improve, make better choices, do it.  Don't wait for the start of a month, or a Monday, or a new year.  Look at yourself in the mirror and decide that today, this moment, is your chance.

I started this blog over 2 years ago, which seems insane to me.  I've continued to go through so much since the date I was diagnosed, and I continue to struggle and work through my failures and faults.  In 2018, my goal was to not have a surgery, however the opportunity presented itself to have a breast reduction and cut out some scar tissue that threatens my self-esteem daily.  This surgery is elective, to a point, I don't have to have it to cure cancer, or acid reflux, or prevent cancer.  This surgery is to improve my mental health, help me move past what cancer has done to my body.  I'm starting out 2018 with goals I've always had, improve myself, mentally, emotionally, physically.  This year, I am going to continue to evolve and identify what's important to me, reach on my tip toes to touch the stars that often feel just out of reach.  I have officially been single for a year, and I've learned a lot about how fragile I can be when a guy rejects me, ghosts on me, or is just plain mean to me. I value my self-confidence, it is one of my greatest qualities, and plan to continue being awesome into the New Year.

I hope that each of you were able to wake up this morning knowing you had another day ahead, another day to hug your loved ones, call those in your life who are far (physically or emotionally). If you have chosen to identify resolutions to yourself, keep them realistic, and actionable.  I will continue going to the gym, regardless of how much I truly hate working out; I will continue feeding my soul through volunteering and helping those who can't help themselves; I will continue searching for a career that makes me happy, and want to go to work each day; I will continue trying to be a good friend, daughter, sister; I will make 2018 a year to remember. 

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.

D-i-v-o-r-c-e-d

You read that right, I'm divorced... After 8 1/2 years, my marriage has officially ended. A decade long relationship has turned into a friendship. Although we both feel our marriage ended a few years ago, or longer, it became official at 8:31 a.m. today. For those that have never divorced, the amount of time it takes to get married is significantly longer. Our appointment was at 8:30, the judge asked a few yes or no questions from both of us, agreed to the divorce, signed the document and bam! No more husband and wife.

Although I can come off as a bitch, emotionless, hard and cold.... I do recognize that today is not an average day. A union has ended. My reign as stepmother has ended, at least officially. My partner is now a friend. My heart is free to search, wander... conquer. I totally high fived him after the hearing, I'm not sure what would have been appropriate but a high five is my go to.

I feel strange, excited, relieved, happy and a little sad. I still want the best for him and in a way am sorry I wasn't the best. 2016 has been such a roller coaster; cancer, chemo, becoming cancer free, big surgery, divorce, figuring out who I am again. Today, December 29th, I became a single woman heading to Boston to celebrate the new year. Today I moved from wife to friend. My status changed from stepmom to other mom as Nate describes me. I changed from living with my husband to living with a male room mate.

In true Randi fashion, I had coffee with a good friend and came to a bar for a beer and whiskey. It's nice being in an empty bar; I'm able to listen to the music, enjoy my IPA and blog in peace. I know that I will internally process my divorce at my own pace; I will work through any feelings that appear; I will grieve the old in hope of the new. I highly recommend marriage to those that want a partner in crime, a best friend who they love to kiss, a body they want to sleep next to, a person to grow old with after the body, and possibly mind, fail.

I am quite confident I shouldn't have gotten married, I think our relationship changed the minute I Do's were said. I'm just not marriage material I don't think. As I venture into dating, this is a fact I feel comfortable and confident in sharing. I was told recently that I can be intimidating, scary and hard to talk to. I come off as a my way or the highway kind of gal; this doesn't concern me. I am who I am. A friend yesterday told me that you either love me or are scared of me. I imagine many of you understand this sentiment. I am strong, stubborn, independent and for the most part know what I want. I like my coffee black, beer hoppy, whiskey straight and dresses A-line. I love craft beer, making a difference in dog and cat rescue, being a dog mom, a good friend and am proud that I'm loud. I am honest, up front, talkative and straight forward. I'm not for everyone, but not everyone is for me. I wear a smile more than a frown and would rather have a beer than argue.

I'm now classified as a young divorced breast cancer survivor. 2016 has changed me in ways I can't describe, and don't want to. I'm working towards going with the flow, loving myself and feeling comfortable in my own skin. I'm looking forward to 2017, how will my story change? What new chapters will be started and closed? As always, thank y'all for your love and support. I wish each of you a happy new year; be safe, but a little wild. End your 2016 chapter on a high note.

Online Dating

Dudes, online dating is cray cray!! That is the only way to describe millions of people trying to pick the best free site to meet "the one", a hook up, someone to date, someone to talk to, a friend. The number of sites out there is mind blowing, there are so many you've never heard of (and a few you don't want to hear about). I've talked to a few guys, if their profiles are true, and one guy on the phone. I've received two dick pics, one bottom pic, an option to be eaten (yeah like that, literally the first thing he sent as a message), a few opportunities for long term relationships long distance, a supposed military dude in Nigeria (is he a prince?), the disbelief that I don't want children, confusion why I don't want to jump into a long term anything, an option from a dude for a threesome and a few other surprises.

I was asked to be a side piece today, so that rocked. He was extremely polite and
seemingly honest about being married looking for someone he has chemistry with because he has little communication or intimacy in his current marriage. Although I appreciated his honesty, if that's what it is, I'm not a side piece. However, a friend pointed out I would have to build up to side piece status based on his messages.... I'm a damn good side piece, I don't work up to that status! ;-)

One dude contacted me and my sister and per her description, he thinks you're an item after the first date. I haven't talked to him since, he mysteriously never contacted me again.  I've chatted with a few guys only to find their profiles have been deleted a few minutes prior. I've sent messages to guys who may have something in common with me, and they don't respond but continue to view my profile.... It's a fine line between being open but not too open. I'm a talker and want to believe that most people are good (even after all I've seen in life and rescue). I want to trust that those I talk to online are genuinely looking for a friend, girlfriend, an opportunity. Supposedly I'm a guys pen pal now, he has emailed me a few times.... But his profile has since been deleted.

I chatted with a guy who asked if I found him attractive, I didn't, and said so politely but that I enjoy making new friends. He responded with, "Hmmm", and never responded again. I felt bad but didn't want to lie, I'm not good at it. I'm talking to an Army guy stationed in Boston. I enjoy chatting but there's always the possibility he isn't real. He has shared a couple videos of himself but it could be that he's downloading random videos. It's so weird to think that people do this, they purposefully try to trick people. He's seriously cute if that's him, but he's looking for long term; we are still chatting... I remember IMing and assuming everyone was honest. Now there are scams to pull at your heart strings, just be mean, extort money from well meaning souls looking for love and/or companionship.

I'm just chatting, seeing who's out there beyond the bar scene (let's face it, I hang out at the only two good places in GC). I'm 37, not 27, I have a career, home, dogs, scars, baggage and too tired for one night stands. I don't want a knight on a white horse, maybe an employed fella with a good sense of humor in a decent vehicle with a place to live. I don't need a savior, I'm independent, I'm smart, I'm not sending money to a Nigerian Prince but I need someone of substance, and who I'm attracted to, to message me or at least respond.

I've received messages from so many short guys, I'm 5'5; where are the dudes at least 5'10 (requirement changed from 6') without kids (or with older kids) ?! Where are the guys in Cbus, not Alabama, NY or Texas? I would like a cup of coffee, a movie date, someone to hit up a new brewery. I don't want to become a wife, mom, stepmom, long distance lover; I just want a local tallish dude with some decent attributes for a date. I've only been online for a few weeks, it's early but daunting to say the least.

As I continue to traverse my new path, I'm still optimistic, my new meds are finally kicking in and I'm open to new opportunities. I'm pretty open on my online profile and have a couple cute pics; I'm working on more, but most of my pics are of me with little to no hair. I'll keep updating y'all on my journey.....

The Holidays

It's been well over a month since my last blog post.  I would like to say that I've been busy globetrotting, rescuing, winning the lottery, falling in love or many of the other fabulous things I dream of. The reality is, I've been busy, depressed, anxious, lonely and in a place that has been hard to get out of.  I've tried climbing, hiding, medicating, crying and anything else I can think of, or not have to think of, in order to make it through.  I'm in a really weird place; going through a divorce, celebrating being over 6 months cancer free, adjusting to my new body, working through emotions of becoming single after a decade long relationship, working through my current living arrangement with my younger sister, soon to be ex-husband and youngest stepson, home renovations to make my house my home, feeling stalled at work with few options of advancement, and the other issues of daily life.

I am having an issue moving forward, just getting out of bed has become a personal chore. Luckily, I have made the decision to move forward to my next phase of medication for estrogen blocking allowing me to return to my beloved Cymbalta. The Effexor that I was on allowed me to take Tamoxifen, an estrogen blocker, but didn't work for my anxiety or depression.  The Effexor was supposed to help with my hot flashes, but I still sweat, carry a fan and am generally uncomfortable most of the time so it didn't make sense to remain on medication that wasn't helping.  The downside is I'm now on a monthly injection and daily medication throwing me into full blown menopause at the ripe age of 37.  It's been two weeks today since I've returned to Cymbalta, I am feeling better and trying to get out of bed on a daily basis.  This past week I returned home to Texas to help my Mother empty her 3 bedroom home to move most of her belongings to my house so she can fulfill her dream of selling her home and becoming a full time RVer. This is a crazy, fantabulous idea that I'm jealous of, worried about and excited for her to start her adventure.

This past week I flew home with my younger sister and we went through my Mom's entire house, garage and shed and drove back a 20' UHaul filled to the max with furniture, clothes, Christmas decorations, memories, memories and more memories. The visit was emotional, we went through childhood clothes, stuffed animals, schoolwork and so many other items that brought back good and bad times. I have made the drive to and/or from Texas to Ohio well over a dozen times in my life, but this may have been my last drive.  I regretted not taking my Blueberry's ashes with me, he currently rests on my mantle with the ashes of Teddy and Harlee, but I want to spread him on the drive between here and home.  He made the drive with me multiple times and it seemed fitting to spread him between his two homes, but alas I forgot to pack him. I am always excited when I land in Texas, it's my home, where I grew up, where I went to school, where I had my first boyfriend, fiancé, break up, apartment, etc., etc. Once my Mother is gone, will I visit anymore?  I don't know. I may not have any reason to which is weird and a little unsettling.  Ohio may officially become my home....

I am having a lot of issues surrounding getting dressed and feeling confident, which isn't like me, I normally have a smile and feel I'm an awesome woman.  Lately, I just feel ugly, manly and not attractive.  I hate my short hair, it isn't a style I would have ever chosen; it isn't a cut that I would have ever dared to try; it isn't hair that makes me feel confident, sexy or pretty; I miss my long hair. I appreciate everyone that feels the style makes me look attractive, but it just isn't me.  I hate my scars, I feel like I have more every day or they are getting darker and more noticeable.  My dog bites are reopening, probably because Pepper licks them at night, but it's annoying and they seem to not lighten or lessen.  My stomach scar is just as dark as it was when it appeared after my surgery in May.  My breasts are tender and hurt often, they aren't comfortable and the scars on one breast are deeper than the other.  I feel my drain scars every time I put on a bra. My right side is still tender and swollen, I'm awaiting permission from a doctor and insurance to start physical therapy to reduce the swelling and hopefully alleviate the pain.  I go to get checked for lymphedema every couple months and so far so good.

I finished my last infusion a couple of weeks ago, it's wonderful to know that I don't have to plan to go to have medicine injected into my port every three weeks.  However, I traded this infusion for a monthly injection, yeahhhh....  I need to reschedule my revision surgery to correct my reconstruction, it's a minor surgery but will still need time off work to complete.  I need to schedule my hysterectomy, I'm asked each time I see a doctor related to cancer when it's scheduled and I'm reminded that it needs to be sooner than later.  The likeliness of my cancer returning is strong and worrisome, I just need time to get this done.  I need vacation time, sick time, personal leave; you know, leave to take time off work but still get paid.  Every time I have a day available, it's used in one fashion or another.  I am working long days to make up for time taken off, whether it's because I'm sick, doing something for the house, going out of town, balancing doctor appointments; there just isn't enough time.

I am trying to stay positive, telling myself that my life is great; I even posted a list of why I'm thankful for the next month to remind myself of everything I have outside my desk.  The list is easy to fill, the reasons flow easily, I truly am a lucky bitch.  I just need to start each day reminding myself that I'm blessed, for those that suffer from depression or other issues, you know that even these healing thoughts don't always help you get out of bed, shower and get your day started.

I am excited about New Years, I'm flying to Boston to spend the weekend with two great friends in their beautiful home!!!  I have never visited the city and what a great way to start the New Year!!  I'm always telling myself that I'm lucky; I'm in a great place; I have amazing friends; I'm going through an amicable divorce that allows us to remain friends; I have an amazing Mom who is going through her own struggles but working to support me; I have a kickass job that allows flexibility, great pay, great benefits; I have a beautiful home that I'm making more beautiful with improvements; I have wonderful dogs that make my heart smile; I have hair; I have breasts; I am cancer free; I am alive.

Walks...

Y'all, I just participated in my first organized walk that I can remember. This may or may not mean that I've participated in similar walks in the past, I just can't literally remember. I rock at donating, raising funds and awareness for the cause but when it comes to actually walking, I would rather sleep in, stay out late, transport rescue dogs or many other things than walk. Well, today was a cause that personally affects me, not that others haven't affected me through friends or family, but today was my first breast cancer walk ever.
What does this mean to me... It means I donated and walked for a cause that could have ended my life. It means for the first time I rolled my ass out of bed early on a Sunday after being out late, got dressed, grabbed Hazelnut and Chuck (soon to be ex husband) and met my kickass friend Lyndsay to walk for breast cancer. We walked to help fund breast cancer research, raise awareness, inspire women to get mammograms (especially those under 40), we walked to celebrate my life and survivorship and that of so many other women. We walked...
I had a tutu made for the event, props to Melanie Oliver, for making said tutu. I used a tutu for my stone goose to go around my black chow chow Hazelnut's neck so she, as a cancer survivor, would also enjoy a brisk Sunday walk. We all had pink on, signed petitions, wrote who we were supporting on signs and stickers (me, :-)), and took off with other survivors and supporters to cheers, screams, prayers and everything else people could do to show that breast cancer doesn't define us... Breast cancer is a disease that can be treated... Breast cancer can be researched the hell out of to find a cure... Breast cancer isnt everything, it's only something... Something we can conquer, rise against, and beat.
Did we walk the whole way, absolutely not. I'm hella out of shape and Hazelnut was tired, but we made it about half way. Prior to the walk I had the honor of being interviewed by a local news channel. They were looking for a recent survivor and being 5 months cancer free, I fit the bill. It was awesome to tell my story of being diagnosed, the past year, share photos and just be recognized as a recent survivor. It was amazing to be surrounded by other survivors, I heard my breast surgeon was even there, that's flipping awesome.
Today helped me realize I need to up my BC survivor game with shoes and pants appropriate for the event. It also helped me realize I'm straight out of shape and that needs to become a priority pronto. I can't thank Chuck and Lyndsay enough for joining me today. It was humbling knowing people in my life care about me enough to wake up early and walk. As a sucky waker upper, thank y'all for waking up early for me. It means the world.
To the rest of y'all, get your mammograms!!!!! Find a cause that makes you want to wake up early on a Sunday to walk. Find a fight worthy of your dollars and dedication. We all know I'm a huge supporter of rescue, but that doesn't mean other issues aren't close to my heart. If it isn't worth a tutu, keep it moving, you'll find your tutu event soon enough.