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Gifts

Cooper got me the perfect Christmas present this year!

Sporting my new St. Louis Cardinals breast cancer tribute baseball cap. (Photo by Lyla)

Every now and again since we’ve been home Charlie will climb onto my lap and pat the place where I’m hurt.

And the girls have lots of questions about my upcoming surgery.

And Gus is mostly remembering to be gentle with Aunt Peachy’s body.

The sweetest sort of gifts.

Two days after my diagnosis I rolled my mat out in the back of the room at Angie’s yoga class, knowing I’d mostly be skipping flow and staying still in savasana. During practice, she asked us to be open to receiving – whatever comes our way. Meaning, for me, illness, but also all that is offered (and unexpected) in the days and weeks and months after finding out.

Not easy for me. My instinct is to say, it’s okay, don’t worry, I’ve got this. But since December 13 I’ve started to realize what she means about the beauty of saying yes. And I’m going to continue accepting the gifts offered to me. Gifts like reiki, meditation and yoga classes, second opinions, doggie / kid dates, mountain and beach respites, gold light and energy from priestesses in Brooklyn (!), meals, prayers, poems, medical research, movies, books, wine, rose quartz, T’s Fuck Cancer Fund, connections to friends of friends who have gone through this, Central Market gift cards, daily messages, flowers, and so many offers to come to Austin and stay with me while I’m healing.

Gifts like your closeness, Dad’s closeness.

The littles in my life.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

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When It’s Your Turn

Merry Christmas! I’m home. Drove 12 hours from Texas to Missouri yesterday. I’ve always loved a good solo road trip. Especially now. It’s a little bit like walking for me. Instead of thinking about things, I don’t think of much at all. I remember after Dad died how being in the car – suspended somewhere in-between – allowed me to quiet my mind, rest, breathe. Still a welcome reprieve.

I woke up this morning to a lighter heart and more sweet messages and it made me realize grace is already at work again. When Sister and I were walking around Town Lake the other day, I told her I didn’t know how I’d ever thank her. Then I stopped and said, “Well, I’ll just do the same for you when it’s your turn.” Which made us both think of this long-ago video of Cooper when he was a little sick:

Click Here to Watch Cooper’s Video

[If that video link didn’t work for you, try this one.]

I promise when it’s YOUR turn – no matter what life brings – I’ll be there for you like you’ve been here for me.

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Here We Go

Hi! Sister and I thought it would be a good idea to start a blog and keep us all connected as this next winding (unexpected, a little scary, not quite welcome but I’m ready and willing to receive it) journey for me begins. I can’t even begin to express how grateful I am for all of you and the many ways you’ve already encircled, accompanied, supported, and fiercely loved me since learning I’ve got breast cancer. I’ll be posting updates here, and Sister might pop in every now and again too. This site will *not* replace my need for our one-on-one conversations. (Please, please keep calling and texting and checking in and showing up for me!) But it will give me a single place to share news with all of you, so I don’t have to repeat things about my diagnosis and treatment over and over again. So. Here we go.

By the time Sister arrived on Tuesday, I knew a) my mammograms and biopsy confirmed that I do, indeed, have breast cancer, b) it’s the aggressive kind (but they caught it early), and c) my oncologist’s recommendation is a double mastectomy. That was enough for us to take Xanax and drink lots of wine her first night here.
We tried to have a little fun at the breast surgeon’s office the next day. The cape she gave me was kind of cuuuute (as Dad would say) and it made me brave enough to try to fly.
Cacki’s right. Having cancer is a full-time job. (Thank goodness I’m unemployed!) So many appointments. So much paperwork. And I’m not sure how, but every time I get weighed, I weigh a little more. Isn’t that weird.
Sister joined me for my late-night MRI! I think she would’ve crawled into the machine with me if the radiologist would’ve let her. Oh wait, she just said nope, she was having her own panic attack.
Who knew there would be a photo shoot at the plastic surgeon’s office? If I get a mastectomy, I can choose reconstruction – or not. My oncologist just wants me to know all my options before I make any decisions. And I don’t have to do that until the new year.

Have I mentioned how bad ass my oncologist is? Thanks, Holly, for recommending her:

https://www.texasoncology.com/doctors/debra-patt

After treating ourselves to massages with my amazing massage therapist Alicia we treated ourselves to two glasses of rose each at Vinaigrette in the middle of the day. I have cancer so I can.
Clear eyes. Full hearts. Can’t lose.
After our last appointment of the week! Damn Deep Eddy. How I’d missed you.

It certainly hasn’t been uneventful around here. But I’m off to see my therapist now and my spirits are high and I’ve set some guiding intentions for how I want to go about all of this. Starting with wishing for what I already have. And what I have in abundance is FAMILY AND FRIENDS who lift me up. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

PS – Beauty in the Mess comes from my beloved yoga teacher Angie. In the magical class she offered Sister and me this morning, she reminded us that sometimes we can’t see the whole picture, but that doesn’t mean things aren’t just as they should be in this moment. Amen.