Let Go Or Be Dragged

October 1 I had a mammogram that turned into another mammogram, a biopsy, and a diagnosis. I have ductal carcinoma in situ. In the scope of cancers, it's not a bad cancer. Like that makes any difference.

Since October 15 I've been fucking depressed. Everyone's so sympathetic and it makes me uncomfortable. People are buying me shit, which makes me uncomfortable. I have gone to the doctor of some sort every week. I go to have an MRI on Monday, one month exactly from finding the lump.

After the MRI I'll talk to my surgeon and set up a mastectomy and get the problem taken care of.

Pretty much sounds like I have my shit together, right?

Except I'm scared shitless. This will be my second anesthesia in a year, 4th in my life. I'm scared this time I won't wake up. I'm upset I am cutting a part of myself off to save my life. I've always hated my boobs and now I can't stop looking at them. Trying to see what I'll look like without them.

A friend's brother died suddenly and she sent us some clothes for Jake. And it made me think about what Cody would do with my things if I died. Who would get my sewing machine. Who would take my barbies. And my clothes.

I'm scared I would be the 0.000000000000000000001 person to have such a wussybaby cancer metastasize, but that's on my mind, too.

I cry a lot. Much more than anyone knows. It's kind of weird though because it's definitely "i don't want to do this" crying and not "oh poor me why me" crying. Why me? Probably because I lived in farm country in the 70's. It's depressing to think this is probably My First Cancer. I just really don't want to do this. Oh, how retail has trained me for this very moment.

Half the people at work don't even know.

The apartment manager called because 1 of the tenants has decided she maybe can't move out til the end of August. She asked what day I was needing it and I told them I need to be out of my house on the 15th. I haven't heard back so I need to call in the morning but now I'm panicking. Affording this move hinges on only paying 600 for august rent here. If I'm sunk for another 600 we won't be able to pay the deposit.

I'm just going to freak out now.

I need to be in bed for work but instead I'm up, gabbing with Vi and mocking Supernatural.

This week has gone by SO fast. Like, it was literally just monday. What a bunch of drudgery. Except tonight. Tonight the reset crew will be in to fuck up my shelves, so I'll have a lot to do to put it back together.

I love my job. I love to bitch about my job, but I love my job. It is exactly as much responsibility as I want, the only people I "manage" are my M/W crews, and supervising consists of going on the intercom to tell them it's lunch time. And I love being the union steward. I haven't talked to Travis, the rep, this week. I should probably text him.

It is so smoky, and it's so early in the year. This is going to get so bad here in a couple weeks. Today the air quality was about 350, hazardous for everyone. Smoke season is the worst season.

I'm amazed at how many people journaled this week. My flist hasn't been this busy in months! I wonder if tumblr+ has anything to do with it.

I laid down when cody took jake to work and when I woke up two hours later he wasn't home. Nothing else quite gives me the kind of panic attack that I have when I wake up alone. Cody doesn't do anything or go anywhere. God, the wave of panic adrenaline is still making me buzz 4 hours later and I've had watery tummy all day.

So my daughter and I and her boyfriend went to Target. First, I fucking hate shopping. I fucking hate it. Went in for Spider-Man toys, walked out with some Cars movie toys, a Jurassic Park dino set, and some Spider Man walkie talkies. There were some really nice pajamas, but I just couldn't afford them.

Then we went and they bought me dinner. I got a Thai milk tea, which is bright fucking orange and I taste black tea but I have no clue what the other flavors are. And I got a poke bowl with white rice, spicy tuna, cucumber, avocado, edamame, carrot, pineapple and cilantro with eel sauce and teriyaki sauce. It looks lovely but I'm too anxious to eat. Also, I've never tried poke so that, too, makes me nervous.

The worst part is I know me and this post-anxiety bullshit is going to hang around all night.

If you were not aware, it is Heatpocalypse here in the beautiful state of Washington. We've had some hot summers, but not this hot this early for this long. And not this widespread, either.

There have been hot summers. There's something about a scorcher, like 97 to 100, that gives me this visceral memory of the summer of 95 when Cody and I had both filed for our divorces and his wife moved out and he still had the house. We'd spend days in this oven of a house eating tuna on onion bagels while we cooked an all day pot of spaghetti. Why we chose to cook this hot af food on the hottest day of the year, I don't know. But I remember the heat and the smell of SO much garlic, and I was in cut off jeans and a tank top and I can visualize the kitchen in that house SO clearly.

And when it gets hot like this I always put on my bpal War oil because it reminds me of this ungodly hot and humid summer in Nashville when I went to see a friend and the magnolias were in bloom. It's ginger and musk, patchouli and honeysuckle and it's the last good thing I remember before I had my break in Ohio and needed medication. I'm pretty sure I was manic that weekend, so I have a lot of good associations with this scent. And with her. And love. And happiness. I miss her face.

And when it gets hot like this and the angle of the evening sun is just right and the dirt smells dry, or there's a sprinkler hitting hot concrete I am taken back to grandma's house and the crack of the screen door slamming shut, good things to eat like the butter melted on the plate in the cupboard mixed with peanut butter and milk powder and honey. Iced tea in the tall glasses you had to be old enough to drink out of. Of stubbed toes and monkey blood and the pain of the actual fucking mercury seeping into my open wound.

I wonder how hot it was, really.

I have so many things to work through. You can move on.
( Read more... )

I have to get this out of me and I don't know where else to do it. Not facebook because I don't want my extended family to know this stuff. Not twitter because it's too much. Not Slack because it's a fun place, not for this.

So back to my roots I go.

When the election results came rolling in I began to cry. Not because Hillary lost but because hate won. Hate and bigotry and ignorance and, yes, stupidity. Apparently Trump appeals to "the working man"...that mythical white man who's just joe america who doesn't see that America is so much bigger, richer, so much MORE than his shitty little town and his shitty little mortgage.

I am genuinely desperately afraid. This isn't hyperbole. I thought Bush would be a bad president and he was, no arguing that, but the man did his best with the advise he had. I don't think Trump is going to listen to advise. I don't think he's a good man or a good person. I think he's going to run this country into the ground. I think we're going to see a market like none other. He's not going to bring jobs. Even if he does have a grand infrastructure rebuilding plan I fear he'll get it going and everyone will get stiffed on their pay. I think he's a hateful man, a white supremecist, and a rapist. He is human garbage, the sort of lauded elite who gets away with what he get away with because he has money.

I am absolutely terrified that people I love are going to be deported. People I love are going to be put on registries and lists. People I know who are poor and need aid? That aid is going to evaporate. LGBT? Fuck you. Gay marriage, gone. Roe v Wade, gone. Health care? adios.

Everything Obama has done despite monumental obstruction is going to be overturned. We are going to be worse off than ever.

But it won't be ALL bad because if you fall in line with The State and do what The State says you'll be fine. No more welfare, go build a road. Disabled? Well, too bad. No more of that free ride. Babies? Get a rich husband.

There are so many problems in this country and I don't believe he had idea one on how to help anything let alone fix anything and I am afraid.

I am afraid for my queer children. I am scared for my trans children.

I am scared for my half Thai son in law, and by extention my quarter-Thai grandson.

I'm scared of my disability standing. I'm scared of Cody's disability standing.

I'm terrified of what might happen to medicare and social security and how we'll take care of mom in case, God forbid, anything was to happen to her.

I'm afraid of the hate and attacks already happening.

Trump gave all the fringe fuckers who are all white power the "legitimacy" to come out o the wood work.

When will the lynchings begin? Who will be the next Matthew Sheppard? How long until Planned parenthood goes away, gay marriage goes away, how long until everything we've worked so hard for just ends in the persuit of "making America great again?"

I am sick and I am scared.

And I just keep crying.

My grandson Teegan arrived on July 14 and has changed all our lives, and for the better. Look at this boy.

7lb3oz, 20 inches

Just born




A few hours later




And today, 7lb12oz

It's time, it's time, it's DISNEYLAND time! Which means fundraising event. This year we have wrapping paper, assorted jewelry and cute stuff, totes, kitchen stuff, and gifts galore. Plus magazine subscriptions. The more she sells the closer she gets to Main Street USA!
Go to:
http://gaschoolstore.com
Shop Now
Enter code- 1040427
Student is Cheyenne Corrick,
Shop at your leisure.
This is some really good quality stuff this year. As usual you don't get much candy but all the rest of it is top notch. And she says she gets double credit for magazine subscriptions!
Want to support and not have to buy into the consumerist side of it all? Go to:
http://www.gofundme.com/y3ks8r8r8
And donate directly to the fund!
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU