My Silver Lining

Cancer taught me to find the "silver lining"
wherever I could during my illness.
A fait accompli at times and elusive bubble at others,
my life became about trade-offs:
chemo for a cure;
bilateral mastectomy for boobs that would make a twenty-something, green with envy;
and
an oophorectomy (removal of my ovaries) for the chance to say "bye-bye" to my period.

So when my I told my girlfriend, Gwen about my latest surgery,
(she obviously hadn't read my latest blog)
imagine my
SHOCK!!!
when she mentioned that losing my ovaries did not equate to losing my period. "You still have your uterine lining, which should shed each month. Your ovaries were removed, not your lining," she explained.
"Did I learn that in my 6th grade class, where the separate the girls from the boys?" I obviously wasn't paying attention in class the day that Ms. Cook, the girl's coach, covered the subject.

So much for looking at the bright side, I thought, hanging up the phone.
"Is that true?" I asked my favorite doc.
Jeff was pretty certain - since I hadn't had a period in nearly a year, now that my ovaries were out, my period probably wouldn't return.

Who would have guessed that my uterus held my silver lining after all?

I've Changed

Restarting my life after this past year is tougher than I imagined.
For some reason,
I thought I would just jump back into my former self, like putting on my favorite sweatshirt.
But as I began to recover,
I discovered that my former self had changed.

B.B.C. -
before breast cancer,
I worked out all the time; volunteered for committees; and ran around, slashing items from my to-do list with the
SWISH !!! of a big red marker.
I felt strong, triumphant.

When I got sick, those things that made me feel so capable were stripped from out beneath me.
Oddly, I felt guilty because of it -
guilty I couldn't volunteer; attend a meeting; or become an Iron Girl.
Following one of life's most profoundly challenging experiences,
I expected more from myself.

I thought my struggle would be returning to my old life.
But the real contest is determining whether my new self even fits into my old life anymore.
Maybe it's time to relinquish the preconceptions, expectations and guilt
and start over again.

I've changed.
It isn't because of breast cancer; it's in spite of it.

Not Again...

Maybe I missed his call.
If I had, I would have understood.
He is extremely busy.

I checked my phone,
just to be sure.
Nothing.
No missed calls.

Since attempting to see me in November,
I hadn't heard from him.
Then, just last Monday, he tried again.
He was unsuccessful this time as well.

Since becoming President, Mr. Obama has visited Walter Reed twice.
He visited while campaigning and as a Senator.
I know; I checked.

The last time he visited - there I was:
ready for surgery, then left alone and cold for hours until the President's visit was over.
Last week, I was luckier; I wasn't scheduled for surgery.

That's set to happen tomorrow.
Let's hope it's an Obama-free day at the hospital.