I waved my arms and flapped about



me, the person I was years ago....I had nipples then (they were awesome)

 I am doing more than struggling lately, I am drowning. I have slowly slipped back into the mentality of being an "ill" person. The car accident immobilized me and as a result I was back in the bed (granted there is a new set of bedding) but the helplessness feeling is the same. Not being able to do laundry, prepare meals, keep the house in order, work at a normal capacity is a bit much. But I was working on it, I knew that I had to let my body heal, damn those "soft tissue" injuries. 

Oh, and if you are curious, my right boob is still holding strong at my fucking collar bone, awesome.

So there I was, through both holiday's sitting with my 3 heating pads, smelling like menthol, but I could more or less be somewhat of a person.  Then a few days ago a door slammed me in the face, hard (not literally).  I have never been one to suffer from headaches, I mean nothing that would require anything other than a few Advil.  One of my sisters has struggled with headaches a majority of her life, horrible headaches, and she powers through life like a trooper--trying alternative therapies and medications, but continues her life.  I am currently in awe of how she does it, it has been three days and I am ready to throw in the towel.

At first I thought it was my newly placed IUD (yep, lady part reference--UTERUS (I bet I just lost a few readers....). I thought maybe it was because I was taking a different medication for pain so it was making me dizzy and I had to keep my head on a pillow--I have been there before. But then I stopped that medication over the weekend and starting on Monday I had blurry vision that would come and go, I felt like I wasn't able to make the connection between what I was thinking and what I was writing (or being slow in reactions), I didn't feel comfortable driving, I was sick to my stomach, they only thing that helped was being asleep, because I couldn't feel the pain. It was like a cloth was draped over my forehead and face and it wouldn't let go.

And here I am...........three days later feeling the same way, numerous medications, home remedies and a massage and I sit typing this in the dark on my keyboard that sits on my lap, facing away from the computer) luckily I am a pretty good typist so there is no concern to the knowing of the keys.....but I could really use a break here.  My massage therapist said that it was a result of the pain from my back and neck moving up into my head, she did her best, but I left feeling just a tiny bit better than when I went in, now I am back to not feeling able to drive and am almost ready to hide under my covers....going to sleep at 3:00pm is warranted and I feel doctor approved, but ridiculous.

I have a life to live, I have stuff I need to do, but I can't seem to power through. I know that part of it is because when I sink into being that "ill" person things very easily compound on each other and I fall apart, literally my body just begins failing me and mentally I am not strong enough to keep the composure. I am at a loss here, and I am more overwhelmed than I have been in a long time. There is literally nothing I can think of to do to change the situation and the more I stress over it the worse I feel.

I feel like I have become a burden to my loved ones,  these tremendous and amazing people, many of whom put their life on hold when I was diagnosed to meet my every need. I am worried that there is a breaking point, where you can only love someone through so much, then you need to begin to heal yourself. Being a caretaker is unbelievably hard, and as I continue to struggle with health issues I am worried I will lose parts of this support tapestry.  I know there are times that Scott must think of how easy it would be to be with someone who could run a marathon with him, someone who doesn't end up in the ER monthly, someone who isn't broken. I just want to be that person so bad. I sometimes suffer in silence rather than speak up because I think it is unfair to those around me.

Yesterday I got off the bed and my left leg was numb and I fell on the floor, I have been having some serious cramping and with ovarian cysts before similar things have happened, but when I start to add everything together I begin to worry that there is more to the picture. But I know I worry more than the average person, especially medically after my diagnosis. I don't want to be the girl that goes into the ER and they talk about after I leave, but when nothing works I begin to think the worst. Where the hell did they hide the "Easy" button for this shit?

lady-parts & 2012



this picture exemplifies how I want to feel in 2012

 Happy 2012!!!! I am a bit behind on my blogs, the holidays throw a wrench into my already lackadaisical approach to my blogging (which, by the way, is a new years resolution, BLOG more). I don't know why I avoid it, I always feel better after I hit 'publish'. 

For Christmas I was fortunate enough to get to go home to Okanogan with my sisters and spend time with my mom and see family.  It even snowed for about 20 minutes so I was happy.  I am so thankful that I have my sisters, they have been the best nurses and cheerleaders for the past three years, and chauffeurs as well.  My back is still all messed up, so I was unable to drive to Okanogan, thank goodness for family!

After Christmas we had to head back on the 27th for me to have an outpatient procedure at UW medical on the 28th.  If you follow my blog you know that my right ovary is two times as big as the left and it is full of cysts.....so we needed to do an endometerial biopsy to check that everything is okay.

  ***next paragraph discusses lower lady parts in detail***
Also I chose to have a ParaGaurd (copper, no hormones) IUD placed at the same time.  Because I am on the Tamoxifen, lets just say my lower lady-parts are more like the Sahara than the Pacific Northwest, so even having a pap was so painful I cried. As a result we decided that me being sedated for both the biopsy and IUD placement was a good idea.  I am recovering from those procedures pretty quick.  I am still having some bad cramps but overall not so bad--and the best part? The biopsy results came back NEGATIVE!!!! At least some of my lady-parts are working with me.

And then there was New Years..........2012.  Another year of moving away from cancer us behind me, it had its ups and downs, but when most of the chemo fog lifted I was really able to start to become the person I wanted to be, and really started to work on some stuff internally.  I am hoping for this trend of healing and opportunity to continue in 2012.

New Years Eve 2012 (I was wearing an apron because I was in character for the Murder Mystery Party)

I am bringing into 2012 a right boob that I can rest my chin on (so I may have a few more surgeries in 2012) but I feel like my family and myself are pros at this point, so I am not too worried. I am bringing a continually sore back and neck from my car accident (I still am working supported by heating pads and pillows in bed), a new care provider team at Seattle Cancer Care Alliance (both oncology and gynecology) and optimism coming out of the wazooo!

Here are my New Years Resolutions, some tangible and others I just want to put out into the universe:
1. remain cancer free
2. write the proposal for my book
3. continue to sort through the mental stuff
4. blog more often
5. begin my work out routine (once I get the okay from my providers after the accident)
6. start to attend more births, get back into the birth/education part of my life that I have been missing
7. get involved with Breast Cancer agencies and start to support women like I have been supported
8. do my best to show friends and family how much I love them and how much their support, actions, love and prayers make my heart sing
9. begin to paint and take classes
10. learn to love the new me, a little more everyday

champagne and sweatpants

****caution: pictures of post-surgery breasts on this blog post***

5:30am comes real early--morning of surgery

It has been one week since my surgery where I had my expanders taken out and my silicone implants put in. If you have followed my journey you know that I had horrible post-op experiences after my bilateral mastectomy. As a result my apprehension going into last weeks surgery was above average. I also have been in continual pain due to the car accident which really doesn't add anything great to the pot. After my mastectomy I had two recovery nurses who ignored me, were extremely rude, and after I escaped that hell hole I was wheeled into my room, but only to be left there alone for 45 minutes (the actual time escapes me due to anesthesia but it was at least a half an hour) with no nurse, no family, no pain meds. I was a 26 year old who just had her breasts chopped off, pull your shit together people!

lines pre-surgery with my plastic doc

But this time around, what. a. difference. I had great pre-op nurses and I had mom and Scott with me, which definitely helps with the anxiety. Though my anxiety quickly turns into bitchiness, so it was probably more of a benefit for them to have each other to talk to because I tend to go off the deep end quickly with the crazinessand it is usually best if I can just focus on music or meditation (I tend to yell less). I was wheeled off to surgery, with NO tears in my eyes this time, just a belly full of nerves.

Here we go! Off to surgery!

I had a wonderful recovery nurse who was right there when I woke up, answered my drug induced questions and was kind. Kindness goes along way, I think people forget that sometimes. She had a sparkly necklace on and we had one hell of a conversation (or at least I thought I was making sense) coming out of anesthesia is not my strong suit....and the many episodes of Nip/Tuck I have been watching didn't help. There was an episode where a surgeon puts neuticles (testicle implants) in a show dog. Whoever would have thought that would be what came to me in my post-anesthesia stupor....well it did. But instead of telling the storyline I said that my husband had neuticles "you know, fake balls" (as I make a cupping shape with my hand). Awesome. Not my best moment, and the worst part? I don't know 100% if I said it or not, I may have just been thinking about it.......drugs are crazy.

Kerri, Mom, Scott--my immediate post-op crew

So I got wheeled into my recovery room and my mom and Scott where there waiting, my sister Kerri arrived soon after and my other sister Kristi and her fiance Nick later on in the day. I started out in a lot of pain, but once I was able to keep down pills my pain evened out and I ate food, took a walk, and spent time with my family. I had been planning on staying the night, because I worry about everything and was sure that I would end up with a blood clot that would spread to a lung. But by around dinner time I was feeling pretty good and my bed at home was sounding better and better. The less time in the hospital the better, so many germs and your risk of infection goes up, so I decided to be discharged. They called my plastic doc and he gave the OK. So home I went........

Done!!!!

family...the best medicine

Oh, but can I just bitch about the hospital's pizza oven being broken?!? I was excited for like a week to have one of their pizzas after surgery when I was given the ok for solid food.........and it was fucking broken! They are the best pizzas and I sulked visibly for what was probably much too long for an adult.....

Me and Kerri--great recovery!



at the plastic surgeon to get my bandages off 2 days after surgery

 So here we are, a week later. I am having a lot of pain on my right breast for many reasons, #1 being that it is up so high in my chest and into my armpit it is putting pressure on my lymph nodes. With all of the scar tissue I have in my right breast left over from radiation the implant doesn't just "settle" in like my left did. My doc cut slits inside my right breast in the scar tissue hoping it will be enough so that the implant can slide down a bit, but there is only so much you can do in this situation. So I have a breast that is very high, like collar bone high, and very uncomfortable. We wait 4-6 weeks to see if it settles down, if not, another surgery. At least it is sweater season, my new girls wouldn't be so great in a tank top right now.


two days after surgery



at the plastic surgeon again, 6 days after surgery

Right Boob-6 days post-op (notice how high it is)

Left Boob 6 days post-op

twas the night before surgery

Well tomorrow is the big day. I check in for surgery at 6:00am, with a scheduled surgery time of 8:00am.  I will be getting my expanders and port cath taken out, a wierd chunk of fat/fluid that has built up around my left expander, and silicone implants put in. No, I don't know what size my new girls are going to be, but they will be round, and at this point that is my biggest concern. These square, pointy-ass, expanders have become SO uncomfortable. When I was chubbier it wasn't so bad, the fat cushioned the sharp corners, though I couldn't jog (even with the best of bras) and every once in awhile it felt like I was getting jabbed by an anorexic baby's elbow, but we live and learn.  I have learned that size doesn't matter, it is comfort.................just like the switchover from the ass rubbing thong underwear to the oh-so-heavenly granny panties that cradle your butt cheeks with yards of fabric.  So I did the research and found a study that interviewed women who had breast reconstruction and they chose silicone over saline--the women who chose silicone said their implants were comfortable...............done and done.

I am excited to get the port out--it is about to pop out of my skin and also is uncomfortable. I am just ready to put it all behind me. I understand I may have a few more surgeries in the future to tweak the implants (sometimes they don't turn out so great the first time) but for the most part I will be done.

I also found a lump. Another one. One that feels just like the one I felt over a year ago, on the same side. I know it is probably a cyst, if it is cancer it is some freakishly strong cancer that survived all my treatments...........................  My plastic surgeon is taking it out and it will be sent it pathology.  I am not trusting my intuition all that much, so I don't really know what to say about it. I felt it over a month ago, and told my plastic surgeon at my pre-op.  Time will tell, but the worry will remain.

So keep me in your thoughts tomorrow as I go under the knife.  I will keep my Twitter updated as best I can.  Your thoughts carry me through with grace. Thank you.

scars are sexy



family holiday photo

 Happy be-lated turkey day!  I was fortunate enough to be able to spend it with family, and I remember it!!!! Last year I was assed out from chemo and can't recall what I did.  We started the day off with Scott running the Turkey Trot (which is a Greenaway-Barkley tradition).  Then we had my mom, sisters, Nick (Kristi's amazing fiance) and Austin (the sister's wonderful roomate) at our house.  We eat the "meal" for lunch because inevitably Scott has to work, which he did.  We eat in plenty of time for him to load his plate full and then relax a bit before he heads off to work.  Then we get to spend all day together lounging around. 

My last post was on Thursday the 17th before I headed off to my physical therapy appointment.  On my way to my appointment I was in a car accident.  It wasn't my fault, and my CRV is totaled! The guy may not have insurance so we are meeting with a lawyer on Tuesday to get our things in order. I don't know how much I can say, all of the lawyer business is over my head. But what it comes down to is that I am back to the beginning, plus some, when it comes to physical therapy. I worked so hard to be able to move my shoulder and it is back to where I started, and now my left shoulder is there too.  My entire back is sore, I have trouble turning my neck, I can't sleep and am in an enormous amount of pain and all of it is very frustrating.  I feel like I was pushed back so I thought I would make a list of things I am thankful for....it is hard for me to remember them when I feel defeated.

I am thankful for...
1. Family, my family is above average when it comes to support and friendship, there were times when we were younger (and I was a complete bitch) that my sisters and I didn't get along. In fact, I was a miserable person who just couldn't figure out what I needed and I took it out on my sisters, thankfully I grew up and grew up better.  Now, my sisters are my best friends, hands down. I don't know if I could function without them in my world. They both hold a very special place in my heart. My mom is a champion. She is the woman I want to be when I grow up. She is my world, and many times my compass.  During my bitchy years, she stuck through it and here we are, 10 years later, and she is my best friend. I talk to her daily, if not more.

2.Additions to family: We all know that Scott is pure joy, he is my rock and he puts up with not only my crazy, but he loves me for who I am sans nipples and all.  He fits in the Greenaway family perfect! Nick, my sister Kristi's fiance, is the same. He fits into our family as if he was there all along.  I am so thankful for the men in our lives, the additions to our family. My dad would be proud.

3. Friends, near and far.  It is hard for me when some of the closest people to me live the farthest...(big shout out to Tasia, Brooke, my Goddard lovelies). My new world is a crazy place and I am so thankful to have friends that can anchor me and support me. I would list you all, but it would be too long! Cancer took my breasts, but it gave me a network of support and opened friendships that I didn't even know where there. I am so thankful to each of you, for the strength you gave me, and continue to give me.

4. Women. Whether you have experienced breast cancer or not, you still have breasts. We are our best advocates. I am thankful that women can create a circle of trust and of spoken word where you feel lifted and transformed. I am thankful for the additions of love that women bring to me.  There is something undeniable about a group of women, listening to each other, sharing their stories, raw, full of emotion--it's transformative.  I am thankful that women fight, that we take breast cancer head on and challenge it.  I am thankful to the surivors who read my blog and share my blog.  I am thankful to be a survivor, a fighter, now I am a woman who now wants to support other women taking on breast cancer. 

5. I am thankful to have a new perspective.  I am someone completely different than I was prior to being diagnosed, both physically and mentally. My priorities have changed, and with that comes readjusting the supports I have around me. I have reevaluated many things, and am still working on that. I have a to-do list that could wrap around the world, and I know that it needs to be focused to something much more tangible at some point, but until then, I will continue to dream.  I am still struggling to take care of myself, making the time is extremely difficult. Mentally I am still blocked in many places, but I am working on it.  I find my strength sometimes gets overshadowed by my past experiences and the pressure I put on myself to be "who I was", but to be honest, I would settle for 1/3rd.

6. I am thankful for escape: creativity. I love to write, but I also love to do other crafty stuff, but I haven't let myself do it yet. I am not sure what is stopping me, but on a regular basis I get this urge to paint. I want to paint all about my experience I want to have a gallery show!!! I want women to be able to feel what I experienced when they look at them, I want it to raise awareness and being a conversation. I want people to see them and do a breast exam. I want to touch a new community with awareness.  I want to paint and write all day and have no other worries.  But there is crap in the way....I can't seem to clear it out. I want to paint, maybe I should look into getting supplies.

7. Lucy: my adorable basset child, she is my sounding board and my foot warmer.  At currently she is our child and my mom's grandchild, our spoiled rotten, hound smelling, child.  She keeps me company when days are tough and is always happy to cuddle.  During treatment I was told to stay away from her because dogs carry germs, etc... but I think she slept on the bed with me everyday--she is lazy and loves it when I am too.  She is a great diversion from tears.

8. Stretch marks & scars: They are my battle wounds, they remind me of what I went through in a very physical sense. They will eventually just be small reminders of my past (when the reality of what I went through slowly fades to the background). They are part of my body, part of this body, this incredible body that fought to live, that almost died to live.  I have went from 220lbs (my highest during treatment, bloaty and full of steroids, I couldn't even put my Crocs on) to 165lbs, but I still have the stretch marks and I still don't have nipples, my breasts still have 3 inch scars across them and my nipples are yet to be found. Scars are sexy.

9. Love: pure honest love that comes from friendships, relationships of all sorts, from a small town where I grew up (Okanogan), love that is so raw you give everything you can to someone in need. Where you put your self aside, and reach out to help. Love that doesn't fade. Love that doesn't have requirements or competition. Love that doesn't know selfishness or measure.

10. I am thankful to just be.

If my small toe had a nail, I would hammer it away.

When life makes me tired by 9:45 am, all I can do is work with my diet coke addiction and power through.

It beings in my small toe, the toe that's nail is so small I put a dollop of nail polish on it so it resembles an appropriate appendage.


It dwells there and spreads its way up to my feet, my feet that hold up this body, my feet that have walked my parents driveway, callused and tough, my feet who took me to doctors appointments, surgeries, chemo and radiation, my feet who lost all feeling and still fight for the right to feel.


It spreads like wildfire up to my ankles--where it burns alongside the snuffed out nerve endings, a friendly reminder of therapies.


Shooting up my legs, which ached and broke during treatment, a seemingly never ending pain, like a star across a dark sky, making its to my behind, puckered with cellulite that shows the weight of breast cancer--large with indignation and missed opportunities.


To my belly which bares the stretch marks of skittles and midnight feedings, of steroids and chemo, of pain and fear.


Next my breasts are once again invaded--like an army of ants, everywhere is taken over, it itches and burns, the memories of trauma. My scars are soothed with the dull heartache, a false sense of protection is provided by the absence of my breasts......replacements left empty, yet to be occupied...


travels then... to my heart--and for a brief moment in time, my heart stops..........and then surges to push the tears from my eyes.

Creative Healing

A self portrait

Life changing? If you make it. I attended a one day workshop by Liz Lamoreux (http://www.lizlamoreux.com/) a few weeks ago. If you keep updated on my blog, you may remember that she came and spoke at one of the doula meetings I attend, and she opened up the poetry side of writing for me, which has been shut for a very long time.  This workshop was such a freeing and sacred experience. There is something about a circle of women, all there wanting something, searching for something, coming together being facilitated by someone with so much wisdom and caring....wow.  I went in with an open heart and left with a full heart, and hope.

I was able to weave some things together that I didn't realize would make a tapestry. We took photos on a walking meditation, something about that was so freeing. There was no "right" photo, or making sure that everyones eyes were open, it was just nature and my feet and my view of the world I was in, right then, at that moment. It was beautiful. 




one of the photos I took on the walking meditation


This poem came from a writing prompt from the workshop

"this body knows....":

This body knows whispers of faces accidentally emerged in the center of its being with no invitation.
This body knows a secret silhouette wedged between unknowing and freedom.
This body knows things that would turn your stomach.
This body speaks of a prison that holds quiet innocence pounced on by foreign invaders.
This body knows the emptiness of the human womb, the sting of a hornet straight to the heart.
This body, this vessel, will carry secrets to the grave.
This body is compromised, full of commotion and regret.
This body perceives pain as a threat to vitality, this body is a patchwork display of intrusion and illustration.
This body whispers softly into the night prayers of forgiveness and hate.
This body is wedged between martyrdom and death.