tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20677662130909399732024-02-18T23:52:04.708-05:00Stupid Dumb Breast Cancera place for me to bitch and vent, piss and moan, and for you to comment on how fantastic I am doing!AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.comBlogger210125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-9553954576909671062014-03-06T09:57:00.003-05:002014-03-06T09:57:31.892-05:00www.stupiddumbbreastcancer.com A new Chapter!!I never thought this blog would get as much traffic as it has. I never thought it would be worldwide. I never thought anyone would read it other than my family. But it has!! <a href="http://www.stupiddumbbreastcancer.com/" target="_blank">Stupid dumb breast cancer</a> has evolved!! And now thanks to my awesome cousin I have new website. Everything is there and it is amazaboobs. So as much as blogger has been fun it is now time to open the next chapter.<br />
<a href="http://www.stupiddumbbreastcancer.com/">http://www.stupiddumbbreastcancer.com/</a> is where its at, check it! I am proud and honored to have this next step and even happier I did it with my cousin Michelle Giannino. Do not worry the tiara is still shinning!<br />
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AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-23088300678119114412014-02-28T02:12:00.000-05:002014-02-28T02:12:12.587-05:00i wuv u birfday boy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQoY27DXZpmhGryOs0nEB8KfTgDyZ4htq6zkdkd_NCbbBs-vBnqOOUrT3x6NCP3XpidOkIsLKmmIwjPum4hrSreewFV5wtg9ZbO6taztg5zcBwLV7q8B8-i8Bg8yUa26CMiAFcOlSLWPYz/s1600/hubs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQoY27DXZpmhGryOs0nEB8KfTgDyZ4htq6zkdkd_NCbbBs-vBnqOOUrT3x6NCP3XpidOkIsLKmmIwjPum4hrSreewFV5wtg9ZbO6taztg5zcBwLV7q8B8-i8Bg8yUa26CMiAFcOlSLWPYz/s1600/hubs.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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It is not perfect love but its our love. Grammar mistakes, annoying kids, cupboards open, recycling over flowing, loud ass Italian family, stupid dumb breast cancer LOVE. Happy birthday professor, I am forever your princess.....<br />
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<strong>"That's Amore"</strong><br />
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<!-- start of lyrics -->(In Napoli where love is king<br />
When boy meets girl here's what they say)<br />
<br />
When the moon hits you eye like a big pizza pie<br />
That's amore<br />
When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine<br />
That's amore<br />
Bells will ring ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling<br />
And you'll sing "Vita bella"<br />
Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay<br />
Like a gay tarantella<br />
<br />
When the stars make you drool just like a pasta fazool<br />
That's amore<br />
When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet<br />
You're in love<br />
When you walk down in a dream but you know you're not<br />
Dreaming signore<br />
Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli<br />
That's amore<br />
<br />
(When the moon hits you eye like a big pizza pie<br />
That's amore<br />
When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine<br />
That's amore<br />
Bells will ring ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling<br />
And you'll sing "Vita bella"<br />
Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay<br />
Like a gay tarantella<br />
<br />
When the stars make you drool just like a pasta fazool)<br />
That's amore<br />
(When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet<br />
You're in love<br />
When you walk down in a dream but you know you're not<br />
Dreaming signore<br />
Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli)<br />
That's amore<br />
Lucky fella<br />
<br />
When the stars make you drool just like a pasta fazool)<br />
That's amore<br />
(When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet<br />
You're in love<br />
When you walk down in a dream but you know you're not<br />
Dreaming signore<br />
Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli)<br />
That's amore, (amore)<br />
That's amore </div>
AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-85452116246882201432014-02-13T03:01:00.000-05:002014-02-13T03:01:37.292-05:00Man of Steel and tears turns 70-something<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-TTg0DMAJ7K4/Uvu_3migvKI/AAAAAAAAJ4k/t-1uowLQt_k/s1600-h/pa%252520beach%25255B2%25255D.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="pa beach" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXfW1S9xEzj8ZNMDo3i8X82yBejFLkwOnPlxywoZKdwZoM9V1Ghax1F0cA8tTuSDodv191_a9qeJVU_jAVZ6uwumaOkurP67T2zXwBcaWOZZL6Fr0R4Oncp0xrMFznt39aJN8mCJ3jQ5Y9/?imgmax=800" height="175" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; margin: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="pa beach" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">swag in the dictionary </td></tr>
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You know when you were a kid and you complained that your parents drove you nuts. Always yelling and telling you what to do?? Yeah I never had that issue. I had the cool dad, like he was the definition of swag. Some can say that my dad was a bad parent because he was our friend, our shopping buddy (seriously the dude can shop still to this day!!), he had the house we hung out at because he turned looked the other way, our dancing dad-the man can move or maybe because he just wasn’t like them. When my dad was born he mother did not really want another kid much less a boy, true story she even told me that. With this over his head he set out to be the rebel in the family. He wore his hair slicked, peg jeans and rove fast cars. Where his siblings were responsible, college bond people my dad was drag racing! So that alone set him apart from anyone. I think the other parents were jealous of his badass ways, our friends all agreed we had the coolest, slickest dad evah. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr. and Mrs. Giannino</td></tr>
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He met my mother and that was that head over heels, love everlasting, true love. That only ended with heart break when in 1973. Just when this young man name Al and his wife Judy and three children Albie 10, Lori-Ann 9 and Ann Marie the princess 1 should have been a regular suburban family my mother, his wife was stolen from him. That being the life he was dealt it was then my father’s job to be the dad, the mom and find some sort of way to heal is broken heart while raising this family. Yes, his friends and family jumped together to help but when they left, the kids were in bed and the house was quiet he would cry. Do not judge my father for crying over the loss of his ideal life that was ripped from him. Men can cry and be strong. It was his release he did that so could let the pain out. He then did what any, no that isn’t true at all-that is again why he is different. He did what he believed the only thing was to do and that was to love us unconditionally by himself with no one else to parent with him. He did not remarry when we were young not because of lack of girls, my pops is a stud! But because not only could he think of “replacing” Judy but he would never try to bring a mother to us that wasn’t our momma. My father amongst all things good and bad is the most selfless father around that would never make him a bad parent it makes him the best father ever. All he knew was how to be him and that meant pure, real love and yes being our friend was part of that. No matter how many crashed cars, boyfriends chased out of the house, divorces, marijuana smoked, drunken nights, sneaking out of the house or fists fights (my brother was a mess, see I can say that cause he never reads this!) he loved us and supported us the best way he could, his way. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Oism9h-Hn5w/Uvu_75DV-aI/AAAAAAAAJ5E/GvFDux6Do5A/s1600-h/fam%25255B2%25255D.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="fam" border="0" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-_JmaX4DTYqM/Uvu_9V1y03I/AAAAAAAAJ5M/z91MSlO1YT8/fam_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" height="400" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="fam" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The most important people in his life</td></tr>
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The one thing my father is for sure is an emotional man (my sister gets that from him hands down two of the biggest criers I know). I do not think the man will ever stop crying, he has way to much love to give-those tears are mostly love and happiness now. I know that more than anything he loves me the princess daughter, my emotional basket case sister, my obnoxious brother, the prodigal-runner grandchild, the stunningly-smart granddaughter, the semi-princess always gets her way granddaughter, the intensely high anxiety grandson, the fabulous fun granddaughter, the sports man smiling grandson, the wiseass grinning grandson and the snuggling eye spy grandson with all he has every last bit he has in him. I also know that he has come to realize that he may still love Judy with his heart but in that heart is a space for his compassionate, caring loving fiancé. You see my father’s greatest birthday gift is waking up next to Deb who through all his heart ache and tears, dancing and shopping she loves him and this crazy group we call family! Truly making him the luckiest birthday Pa around. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-IyLjN_mUWjI/Uvu__XAGw-I/AAAAAAAAJ5U/U3uoAP84lbo/s1600-h/038%25255B3%25255D.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="038" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRF5QVnI3fUh9PK4E4zNqjI8GqT7qhoakQ73t_PAbHG7V8NFJl0am5hxAYNO0lPXdMWnEaMQVC5P0zrcf4Q9wVzHv6MEoDbi1oDCi1iAaKn0Ksu2M6u5WTfrKCayareSMs8izzbQGMFyvw/?imgmax=800" height="165" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="038" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See that smile?? That is happy</td></tr>
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Happy birthday to the most emotionally strong, big ass baby, selfless man, taxi driver, awesome grandfather, clothes hoarder, dancing king, loving father that were to ever walk the earth! I love you even though you call me 100 times a day asking me the same thing over and over and send texts that take me days to decipher. You are my daddy and I will always be your princess and biggest fan. Thanks for always keeping my tiara shinny… <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My king</td></tr>
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<br />AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-28959348316894613232014-01-30T12:16:00.000-05:002014-01-30T15:47:45.996-05:00The making of a princess<br />
<a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-bqeARDGmT_Y/UuqHilfgGdI/AAAAAAAAJvw/sHwTO5vJblw/s1600-h/mom%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img alt="mom" border="0" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-3xpF7UtUwkw/UuqHjVmfy2I/AAAAAAAAJv4/lvzzsJegs-E/mom_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" height="244" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; margin: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="mom" width="244" /></a><br />
Tomorrow is the day that my mother drove around the block 3 times making my dad nuts, then into the hospital to push me out like she was a pro. My father barely got into the waiting room before they called him to say “It’s a GIRL”. I remember it like it was yesterday, no just kidding my dad loves to tell it. My brother loves to say how pissed I was a girl while my sister was so happy equaling yet another fight between them. The day of your birth is so significant yet it has taken me years to really feel good about it. A good breastie and I were taking about why I do not talk about my mom’s death here and I said it was because it has nothing to do with cancer. She told me I was wrong (she does love telling me that), that her death has shaped me into how I am and how I took on cancer. And shit she is right, that damn downstate girl! There is 9 years between my sister and 10 between my brother and I so while I may have been an opps baby I know there was a miscarriage between the siblings and me which means I was their hope for a baby. That being said I can image how happy they were to<br />
have a real princess born. My first birthday must have been a celebration, just wish I could<br />
remember. It was days after that my family was hurt with the most devastating, life changing event. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZV2_8668u5a4rigwR2cFndSn2M4tWqPQH29EcnYMmN3hC4VUckWoWFktCfn6MBD14-MZ-SHdJzxwbnxki87tBcZUUgaUMN-sxlvQ9swNMue-g4CJB1dMhuBMA8QpIn7fpk3alPdhO9RGw/s1600-h/momma%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img alt="momma" border="0" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-BNJrEsn7fIk/UuqIpqIA4zI/AAAAAAAAJwI/UQwJxh8cZrM/momma_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" height="244" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="momma" width="244" /></a><br />
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I always hated the term “I lost my mother” I didn’t lose her at all she was taken. Although as a child I would pretend she had amnesia and was living in Solvay and I would run into her and she would see me and all her memory would come back. Guess Grandma Jennie should have eased up on the “General Hospital”. I have a friend that died from drugs, a friend that died from a boating accident, an uncle that died from bad health and 2 grandmothers that died from age related deaths. While those were all hard to deal with they are life lessons that I could with time understand. But there is no explanation for evil.<br />
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I always hate when people ask “how did your mom die” because they expect car accident or cancer something “easy” (this is sarcasm there is no easy death). I hate it because the look on their face after I tell them is so intense and they feel so bad. I have found that blurting it out seems the best way. My mother was murdered, taken from us by an evil man. Literally kidnapped, rapped and thrown away<br />
like trash. There is never an easy way to say that, never. There is not enough therapy in the world to help my family get “over” this. We will never get over it, we just get through it. I will never believe<br />
that everything happens for a reason that is bull shit to me. I do not believe that god had a plan for us because this was evil there is no plan for evil. I have no room for humor here and find no joke in this. It is the one thing in my life I will never be able to laugh at. What I do believe is that how we get back up after we fall defines us. And trust as a one year old this was like falling down 100 flights of stairs. I will not speak for my father, sister and brother as they had to see this daily while volunteers searched through cold waters for days to find her. This was 1973 and these things did not happen or better yet our media didn’t talk about it. So it was in fact in the paper 2 times a day while being broadcast on the TV all the time. I think their pain is obvious and that is their stories not mine. But please do not think they ever got over this, ever. Hurt this deep shapes us into who we are that compiled with our genes makes us the people we become. It makes or breaks us and that is just a fact.<br />
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I do however believe that we are all part of the nature/nurture effect, you know psych 101. I was raised in the most loving home where my siblings fought over me and who loves me more. Where my father, grandparents, godmother, cousins and family friends treated me like a princess. That was the best way to nurture a child whose mother was stolen from her. However, there is no one in that group that was a hard ass, tough, smart mouthed, strong willed person because that was my mother. She was the one who organized Sunday dinners, smacked my siblings with a wooden spoon (she was so cool), gave her piece of mind and was strong yet loving at the same time. I became her through nature, I got those genes. Had she been able to live her life I think we would have butted heads A LOT. It was her way or the highway and you did not by any mean mess with her. I know that I am her because every single person in our family and her friends tells me so and every time they do I get strength from that. So while this part of my life isn’t about cancer it without a doubt has been why I choose to deal with it this way.<br />
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My mother was a community leader and that is something I am so proud to have inherited. I did not know her or how she handled herself, so I could not learn through actions. This is just who I am my mother’s child. Had she been her to hold my hand well I refuse to go there because she wasn’t. What I can do is feel her angel wings flutter by my side hovering ever so close (ok that part made me cry). Now I have no idea if she loved glitter or stilettos (she was way tall and my father is way short so I am guessing not) or even if she would love a tiara. That’s ok by me cause after all there really can only be one sparkly princess in the family and I am gladly taken that role. <br />
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<br />AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-64544487770409372162014-01-28T08:23:00.000-05:002014-01-28T11:42:56.800-05:00CURE DIVA<br />
<a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-hN10i_RFSNY/Uueufr99_nI/AAAAAAAAJu4/3rU067cQl-U/s1600-h/curediva%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img alt="curediva" border="0" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-QieauWxtVGU/Uueugco8GlI/AAAAAAAAJu8/9bgr_nwaWok/curediva_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" height="244" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; margin: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="curediva" width="244" /></a><br />
I hate saying that cancer gave me this opportunity because I don’t want anything from cancer. The truth is life is what gives you chances. Your kids, family, friends all help to evolve you from those things that life throws at you. Cancer just happens to be part of my life as well as so many. I met this beautifully strong woman named Efrat via social media. We tweeted, emailed and became fast friends. See she lives in Israel, which may sound corny but I think that is so cool. Efrat wanted to actually talk so through the modern technology we Skyped. It was crazy cool! I felt like she was right here not because the connection was great but because we bonded straight away. She told me all about <a href="http://www.curediva.com/">Cure Diva</a> and what it meant to her, what she wanted from it and how she wanted it to help others. The whole time she chatted I thought “this is what I want”. Then she asked me to join and be part of the team. I was overwhelmed with excitement. I thought great I will play on the site. Then Ester contacted me and asked to talk, again in Israel so cool!! We talked and I felt right away an amazing friendship growing. After a few emails asking questions she said she would write a proposal. WAIT….does she mean J O B!? Low and behold she did and I quickly accepted. My family was proud and excited. Julian started to cry “Mommy don’t go to work in Israel”, no honey from home!! I am thrilled not just for this get opportunity but because I believe so much in this page. The page is partnered with <a href="http://www.breastcancer.org/">Breast Cancer</a>.org which gives immense help throughout the breast cancer process. BUT what Cure Diva does is helps us to stay in tune with our inner (or outer) DIVA. Cancer without a doubt screws with our feelings about being a fashionable woman, trust me I have been wearing sweats, leggings and yoga pants for 6 weeks!! Let’s face it fashion is important and it’s so hard to find the right bra or cami during your surgery or treatment time. Cure Diva is there for you. My gorgeous friend Efrat has asked <a href="http://www.giulianarancic.com/">Giuliana</a> Rancic to be a diva as well. Tell me who knows fashion better?? <a href="http://www.glamour.com/health-fitness/blogs/vitamin-g/2013/10/giuliana-rancic-efrat-roman-curediva-breast-cancer.html">Glamour</a> mag featured the partnership in an article. I am so honored to be among these strong women who understand that cancer takes so much; we need a space for us to get our style back!! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-YY5v9xE2JUk/Uueug1MJ7eI/AAAAAAAAJvE/t8VquqsHkGw/s1600-h/clip_image001%25255B3%25255D.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="clip_image001" border="0" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-1j-LMxFmBmI/UueuhJUlfmI/AAAAAAAAJvQ/yvUiG9mneaw/clip_image001_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" height="165" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="clip_image001" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my fabu friends!!!</td></tr>
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The page gives advice about treatment, DX, treatment, products and surgery. That is where I come into play. I will be the “Guardian of Surgery” because well, ya know I have had a few. I could not be happier to be reaching out to women as they embark on their cancer road. I did after all go to school for psychology, granted it was forensics but we don’t need to be technical. There is so much more to having a surgery than just the operation itself. The emotional and physical toll plays hard into effect; I will be on Cure Diva helping those with this road! Please check the page and share it. It really is a great place for us to meet, chat, get help and find the products we need to get us through this thing we call cancer. The only thing missing from the site is a tiara section. Knowing my breastie Efrat she is saving that for me! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUoXWUgAKWWodVMJ8qLU9YM3OA2WE1C-NQ-0_HR5pVZHcPsB5pCtZgwV0o5mgLvdvckXbciEq22b9ZNFk5Dh1NZmdldgDG6V9nhR3e21rFBsMq5Oj160ypERpB-wr5lOowJCNkDTDrG-9t/s1600/coupns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUoXWUgAKWWodVMJ8qLU9YM3OA2WE1C-NQ-0_HR5pVZHcPsB5pCtZgwV0o5mgLvdvckXbciEq22b9ZNFk5Dh1NZmdldgDG6V9nhR3e21rFBsMq5Oj160ypERpB-wr5lOowJCNkDTDrG-9t/s1600/coupns.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">shop and tell them SDBC sent you</td></tr>
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<br />AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-78564845322761548412014-01-16T11:09:00.002-05:002014-01-16T13:55:37.103-05:00RESPECT a lesson in it This post has been long in the making. Many of you know that Facebook has decided that mastectomy pics are too offensive and sexual to post. I had a rant with someone as to why we put these images out there. So I am feeling the need to really explain it which is bullshit because I have explain to the fools a million times. For the record I do not seek fame or glory for posting these images. I personally find it therapeutic to post about what I have gone through. It does empower me to see that others are gaining strength from me. For some stupid dumb reason people and I do include FACEBOOK here just does not see that. In case you missed it lets start at the beginning.....<br />
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When you are DX you get scared, really scared. Not the omg there's a monster in the closet but the holy shit balls what the hell is going to happen to my body, health and LIFE!! Your doc gives you the info sometimes in a neat little pamphlet with a smiling woman on the front. BULL SHIT!!! So what you do is Google, yup good ole doctor Google. You want to see what you will look like after a lumpectomy, see I started with that. My nipple was scabbed and destroyed, no one told me that. Nor did I know what the hell it was going to really feel like, you maybe sore is an understatement and hearing it from a triage nurse that never experienced it is not comforting. COMFORT is why images like this which leads us to those who went through it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil2872A03Ndm4d5LydiwVyBCN9Igqx34xe8a1FCWku14Qb_Pfaykh_lf6Q_X5qrRfAUFCTyVqtQ57ChWwXFHeqcCXPBKDImeN2iJj1yiF_A-mOj_z4gC-Gyp_MGImxGZ1JdOipmsM2obUf/s1600/lumps0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil2872A03Ndm4d5LydiwVyBCN9Igqx34xe8a1FCWku14Qb_Pfaykh_lf6Q_X5qrRfAUFCTyVqtQ57ChWwXFHeqcCXPBKDImeN2iJj1yiF_A-mOj_z4gC-Gyp_MGImxGZ1JdOipmsM2obUf/s1600/lumps0003.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">after the lumpectomy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;">You look to see what your chest will look like after the doctors remove the cancer that is trying to eliminate you. You want to really see what the hell is going to happen not a drawn picture of drains. What will you look like after they cut your breasts off and replace them with tissues expanders?? What the hell is a tissue expander going to do? Finding those images takes away some just some of the scary crap that is entering that head. So images like this not only take that out but give you <strong>HOPE</strong> that you will be OK, maybe not right away.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpF7PuYNcK-OQvrW-xAKtTG45v8UOvNc3tTJ4flupQrRA4tUUWRj4ld-B84KpdpNVUnU2Hq-axZpih-RbvCH2pN5fYgeWzcAbvmAJ4F9STtdHl8ihUst3hZwLq9j8bfZVz6SUlMgMJnDYY/s1600/lumps0289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpF7PuYNcK-OQvrW-xAKtTG45v8UOvNc3tTJ4flupQrRA4tUUWRj4ld-B84KpdpNVUnU2Hq-axZpih-RbvCH2pN5fYgeWzcAbvmAJ4F9STtdHl8ihUst3hZwLq9j8bfZVz6SUlMgMJnDYY/s1600/lumps0289.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the first time I saw what was under the wrapping, drains and all<br />
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You want to know how is THAT going to ever heal?? How will I be me? Will I ever be a woman again? So you search for images to bring you <strong>PEACE</strong> of mind. You try to find something to show you that you will regain your body in some sort of new way. You need to see that there will be healing. That through the pain and the change you will at some point heal.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin82rKbGpY7q3_GhKL0-9HHHqzk7tF7EuXG0DOQAxdLMjEh17F-wWjF68Xi-Pbs3apSOSXyVT_wOcUs5pvjU6hjuLL1DYdwCXHQxH8ybZc8KWaFQv9KMXCHLPMUbNyWyYdko_7r_T-2qRx/s1600/lumps0396.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin82rKbGpY7q3_GhKL0-9HHHqzk7tF7EuXG0DOQAxdLMjEh17F-wWjF68Xi-Pbs3apSOSXyVT_wOcUs5pvjU6hjuLL1DYdwCXHQxH8ybZc8KWaFQv9KMXCHLPMUbNyWyYdko_7r_T-2qRx/s1600/lumps0396.jpg" height="200" width="160" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">healing from expanders</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv_W7mMLGvTHvCBEmhoi64VRjpFQm09cfLiDOZgT25nE6YFjaUCW8RIzgP3KZHFl-MChLn6I1N6yDYYIiFU0flePIeL8x7C6EmOsFXmA3ZxCzL1DXkwwTfEJUUWEDgPdW7sp6Inyg2LWA7/s1600/R73C2415-2257618120-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv_W7mMLGvTHvCBEmhoi64VRjpFQm09cfLiDOZgT25nE6YFjaUCW8RIzgP3KZHFl-MChLn6I1N6yDYYIiFU0flePIeL8x7C6EmOsFXmA3ZxCzL1DXkwwTfEJUUWEDgPdW7sp6Inyg2LWA7/s1600/R73C2415-2257618120-O.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">healing from impants</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z4Bdt5lFlMQ/UtgBn_caNNI/AAAAAAAAJoM/ga74VKB2If4/s1600/R73C1351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z4Bdt5lFlMQ/UtgBn_caNNI/AAAAAAAAJoM/ga74VKB2If4/s1600/R73C1351.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">healing after the painful DIEP</td></tr>
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You get scared that you can not do this. This is not what you have the strength for. But looking at these makes you see that if someone just like you can do this then maybe are <strong>STRONG</strong> enough. Maybe just maybe you will be able to face cancer because you can see the pain, the healing and the strength in these images. You see it so it is believable. And your friends can help you see that through a picture. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjOIAY9Dfr0927TfycyVxQv8CTaygZrzbcdMhAS8EsOiitvG4092CXMo9GRv2-qBQCaNQbAHwoomsPLiqZaL2r_dmmafAQcQRuOq6XBVlb3UuBQVlhjo6IIo4xelELWxcbbGTKNnGGA8TH/s1600/lumps0064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjOIAY9Dfr0927TfycyVxQv8CTaygZrzbcdMhAS8EsOiitvG4092CXMo9GRv2-qBQCaNQbAHwoomsPLiqZaL2r_dmmafAQcQRuOq6XBVlb3UuBQVlhjo6IIo4xelELWxcbbGTKNnGGA8TH/s1600/lumps0064.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my girlfriends reminding me I am STRONG</td></tr>
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You then search for support, cause you are going to need to hear from people that actually get it. You find blogs, Instragms, FACEBOOOK and twitter to be a great outlets. You find others that are going through what you are. You find others that need to see the whole process see through someone else's body. Connecting and reaching out to those in their cancer journey and seeing that you are <strong>NOT ALONE </strong>is the main reason I do this. Because the friends, no the family we have made is what gets us through. We have an immediate connection because of what we have been faced with.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidk6sVpTE84TVLzIFND3iy1KXpY6wfZTpz42fj1CBLeRfFi2rTvb38k3jrtOAD-kSiIsl5qnVxLL039zR9kNtsxrg7elrvoC2H5GxbZll5RA-1BDRRHrwSRfhNTP6DmdlNqHXe7EmLB5IC/s1600/the+girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidk6sVpTE84TVLzIFND3iy1KXpY6wfZTpz42fj1CBLeRfFi2rTvb38k3jrtOAD-kSiIsl5qnVxLL039zR9kNtsxrg7elrvoC2H5GxbZll5RA-1BDRRHrwSRfhNTP6DmdlNqHXe7EmLB5IC/s1600/the+girls.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">some of my "cancer family" that I have hugged</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75"
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</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]-->And guess what fools its because we searched CANCER not porn. </span>Its all about the sex to the masses that do not get it. Their narrow minds can not take the sex out because there are breasts involved which tells me that we are no farther than we were 50 years ago. Not one of us feels sexual about any of this (TMI but more like lack of). We chose to promote twerking, Save the tatas (instead of save the WOMAN), go braless for breast cancer (what the actual fuck) and<a href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=579565818788610" target="_blank"> breast popping out of shirts</a>. Go ahead click it. YUP that is ok on FACEBOOK but these has been removed, reported and flagged about 20 times. Go frigging figure. I would love some help telling FB where it can shove that video and the disgusting comments that followed. Thanks to a breastie for sending me that.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYY_a7IYdTPFjAcfv4R9-RVYTtI9qWB22-YyDkOjAF2MTSggBoz7DR0tjXTuQs4_ptPQm9OtOPdMKNA5_Mq-XxNQaKZKhDSonyhyq-IGRS-e1MJJycW1ep0t6W3Bk0U_5em4kQL-iVlZlr/s1600/lumps0335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYY_a7IYdTPFjAcfv4R9-RVYTtI9qWB22-YyDkOjAF2MTSggBoz7DR0tjXTuQs4_ptPQm9OtOPdMKNA5_Mq-XxNQaKZKhDSonyhyq-IGRS-e1MJJycW1ep0t6W3Bk0U_5em4kQL-iVlZlr/s1600/lumps0335.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">tough times yes, but tough people stronger</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7o_VWlFwwwrwe9NQJWXwl07KUKwjMfkdtIKexqvSy5CI-mCiNlOCR61KnVhBGDheJ4TL2ymbyhnFWnwxlc6eOWka6m5Md7Q-FHRN5A4UX4ZBcGNi2t5fzTQA8klo39fJCO91p_no5QuG8/s1600/lumps0336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7o_VWlFwwwrwe9NQJWXwl07KUKwjMfkdtIKexqvSy5CI-mCiNlOCR61KnVhBGDheJ4TL2ymbyhnFWnwxlc6eOWka6m5Md7Q-FHRN5A4UX4ZBcGNi2t5fzTQA8klo39fJCO91p_no5QuG8/s1600/lumps0336.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my husband showing me love, kindness and support</td></tr>
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I ask you PLEASE, if you do not approve then leave, you know no one is making you read this. I really do not care if you do not want to. Is it at all possible to have the common curiosity to respect what we are trying to do. R E S P E C T, just like the queen sang it. We all deserve respect which we </div>
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have earned to go about this how we see fit. There is no wrong or right way to deal with your DX some choose to quietly deal with their BFFs. Some choose to tweet to get comfort, peace, support, and strength from those following them. <a href="http://lisabadams.com/blog/" target="_blank">Lisa Adams</a> was told she was wrong for doing this </div>
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by two journalist. Who are they to comment, critique her in any way. They should not even comment on the shoes she wears (I have never seen her shoes but they are her shoes ya know). I ask you for the 100 time do not judge anyone's cancer story you are not the cancer judge there is no friggin such thing.</div>
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Cancer of any beast can not just be wrapped up in a smiling, ribbon. Trust me I do my best to smile, laugh and rock a pink boa but unless you understand all the above the ribbon means NOTHING. Look I do not ask anyone to wear a pink boa, stilettos and a shiny tiara because that is me. Plus they may hate pink and I RESPECT that, are you seeing a pattern here. </div>
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And trust when I say if you try to be me you never fill my stilettos, ever. That tiara fits one head and that is mine!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Gh5bklVQ4jNmLqawPvncL4SI8SNguzQedmEX179eBSFGOyR83USuW8SMaoOEjsw_bbhk7OnxfVtAcA5MlrHov7mnLmLbFq2ho2Kp0B5McEncQG3Jnf6S36zBnrs0VUt3wnG6eopPiqJN/s1600/pinkout125-2392664721-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Gh5bklVQ4jNmLqawPvncL4SI8SNguzQedmEX179eBSFGOyR83USuW8SMaoOEjsw_bbhk7OnxfVtAcA5MlrHov7mnLmLbFq2ho2Kp0B5McEncQG3Jnf6S36zBnrs0VUt3wnG6eopPiqJN/s1600/pinkout125-2392664721-O.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-2207085116996218282014-01-08T09:19:00.000-05:002014-01-08T09:24:17.762-05:00How you doin’?<br />
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<a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-qIm8irPGWhs/Us1ZzgX8isI/AAAAAAAAJjc/cidZxKZCQdg/s1600-h/how%252520you%252520doing%25255B5%25255D.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="how you doing" border="0" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-6vhuM8lPrbw/Us1Z0adkwuI/AAAAAAAAJjk/n95tyFJSQ5s/how%252520you%252520doing_thumb%25255B1%25255D.png?imgmax=800" height="113" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; margin: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="how you doing" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Everyone keeps asking “how you doin’?” and all I can think about is Joey. I keep saying sore mostly because some people just ask it and really don’t want to hear the reality. I also know that inquiring minds really do want to know so I am going to lay it all out for you. Hope you are ready!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;">I am 4 weeks out now. I can not believe it has been a month. On New Year’s Eve my girlfriend who is a certified nurse, I did a background check, came over with many sterile utensils and pulled my drains. Julian sat there and watched didn't seem to phase him at all. Sam had nightmares after of drains falling from the sky and hitting him, he maybe scared by this. As many of you know drains SUCK. They are gross, they smell, they tug, they hurt- ain’t no "body" got time for that! hahaah So having them pulled was freeing but I had this notion that the pain would stop when they came out. NOPE!</span><br />
<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-CFko2GpnBPo/Us1Z0zc92KI/AAAAAAAAJjs/AeIQhW0DyLg/s1600-h/R73C1690%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="R73C1690" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje4cNaMFQqQD6n6EF49QeWhjjR-OHfMrcJd5dHY72WJbGgGSEQwlAqBXlTaz9G74NWaZNRzHLIxv_Ps52eRoj-puOO7K82EcPBr0ozjTFd16GUmzcjy10qxjuoAE4u3UCrPOrIq0Q_fO7U/?imgmax=800" height="164" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="R73C1690" width="244" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;">Let’s get physical (you know I love adding songs here and there). People keep acting like because I go to Target, Wegman’s and to my family’s house I am all healed. I do those things to keep me sane but the truth is they wipe me out and I pay the next day. My stomach muscles have been ripped apart and literally cut in half, that will not heal in 4 weeks. I am usually really good from the time I get up until 11am then I must sit and doze. Then at 2pm I am done until 4pm and I get a small burst until 6pm then I am done for the night. I spend my days in the recliner, thanks GDeb for a chair you were going to throw out that has saved me for 2 years. But sitting even in a recline position after awhile makes my stomach hurt. I do not mean the little ache that my 13 year old seems to think is nothing compared to a sprain, I am talking pain like I don’t think I should move because if I do something is going to explode. At night I sleep in my bed with a nest my dear husband sets up, my doctor wants me to stretch a little. I am up all night with aches, pains and have a difficult time sleeping on my back. I have spent the last 4 weeks watching "The Little Couple" with <a href="http://jenniferarnoldmd.com/" target="_blank">Jennifer Arnold</a>, which after I found out she has been DX with cancer. I binged watched it every night! When its time to get up I need help getting out of bed because I have no ab muscle to pull me up. It is actually a little humbling having your sons help you up, but since I carried them for 9 months and carried them around for years its the least they can do. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">That is when the chest starts killing!!! I have had some trouble breathing from the pressure. My chest is still swollen, sorry honey they won't stay this large. Did you know I was DD in my youth?? Yup so I am not new to large breasts. The pain is similar to the mastectomy but for sure more intense and long lasting. I have hard pain in the middle of the toobs which the doc thinks is funny cause that is the one spot he didn’t dig around in. But I feel bruised there for sure. Sometimes the pain is so severe it takes my breath away. </span><br />
<a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Va0aqXHIrX8/Us1Z2PumH4I/AAAAAAAAJj8/aXRvIP02uJc/s1600-h/R73C1695%25255B3%25255D.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="R73C1695" border="0" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-mHMkxojJTq4/Us1Z2rKwxWI/AAAAAAAAJkA/stOwNZFspFI/R73C1695_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" height="164" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="R73C1695" width="244" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">My arms and legs are still numb which is normal. My biceps feel like they had the muscles ripped out leaving me with no strengthen which is fine because lifting or picking anything up is painful. Again normal, they have you retracted and the muscles are starting to wake up and in the words of my doc "are pissed". And do even get me started on plucking my caterpillar eyebrows, I can not lift my arms to do that! Bringing up hair, I now go for laser treatment next week to remove the “fur" (thanks doc for that term) on my toobs! It just keeps going ya know. But you gotta laugh like my friend says, yup all the way to hair removal of the belly hair on the boob. Good thing it isn't butt hair, blahahahah you know who you are. Those full blooded Italian genes at their finest. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Add constipation to the mix and the stomach is in constant pain. It is bad enough having the pull and pain but a gut ache is not good. Smooth Move tea is not cutting it may need more dramatic steps. Let's just leave it at that. There comes a time for TMI, I think this maybe it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">BUT BUT BUT BUT here is the clincher…. I am so frigging happy mentally ALL of that and I mean ALL of that is doable. I am me again, not the same or the one before but me. I took two back from cancer and I feel strong like bull. I feel confident again. When I look in the mirror and see those patch work, Raggedy Ann, Bride of Frankenstein scars all I see is ME. Maybe not model like body or perfect but me. I feel like me cause they are me, hair and all. They are warm and imperfectly round and just what I needed mentally. I am ready to regain my figure once I get cleared to kill it in the gym and I can not wait to start walking slowly next week!!! Take that cancer.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-4i-HDVccGDI/Us1Z3GOO0WI/AAAAAAAAJkM/lmT8DZM1fVU/s1600-h/photo%252520%2525283%252529%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img alt="photo (3)" border="0" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-GQEiNQU9qVQ/Us1Z3rXBd-I/AAAAAAAAJkQ/6KqFxKv0hvY/photo%252520%2525283%252529_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" height="244" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="photo (3)" width="184" /></a></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;">So the tiara is back on shiny and sparkling, nice and straight, the physically healing is taking shape slowly but nicely and the mentally healing is strong. Which is great because this month marks my 1 year cancer free mark or NED (no evidence of disease) which ever you prefer. That being said its time for blood work and scans. Its time to check 3 swollen lymph nodes and redo an MRI so strength is needed. I want 2014 to be about happy times and getting me back so I will not let these tests drown me, which will be a task as I can not swim. I will also be standing my one of my best friends as she faces stupid dumb breast cancer. I will be standing there showing her that tough times do not last tough, strong, badass people do. And if her princess, pink boa, tiara wearing, stiletto rocking BFF can do it so can a granola, hippie, barefoot, recycled material, organic beautifully strong badass! </span>AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-38626131156133941052013-12-31T12:30:00.000-05:002013-12-31T12:34:01.447-05:00I'm bringing me back......Please sing to the tune "I'm bringing sexy back by Justin Timberlake) <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What a friggin year?! I mean seriously. I started 2013 with a hysterectomy and ended with a DIEP. Big body reconstruction! Cancer has taken my life in so many directions my head is still spinning, ok it could be the pain killers but still. I would not have had either of those operations if it wasn't for cancer. I am going to use 2014 to get my friggin body back! Tone arms, fit legs and healthy overhaul that's what my plan is, dare I say resolution?? I am usually one to bitch about that word it always seems to be a fail for most. <br />
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We all say we are changing for the new year, but does it work? I think we make unrealistic goals for ourselves then get all pissed off when we fail. The gym fills up with people that swear they will exercise most last for a good 2 months then life takes over. Some talk the health food way and kick off the new year with smoothies and juicing, after a few weeks they are done and hit Birger. King Then there is the people that swear they will do community service and one maybe two trips to Sally Ann (Salvation Army for those who don't know) and they think their deeds are done. I know I know there are plenty of people that stick to this and get fit, change their diets and become philanthropist-I say Whoot Whoot for them but I'm talking about the rest of us.<br />
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Cancer changed my thinking about life, changes and resolutions. It made me realize that we need to revamp our life daily. Maybe that work out isn't right for you on a day when your body is exhausted and physically can't handle it. Sometimes you just need to put the Vitamixer away and have some home made Mac n' cheese. We have to learn to "let go", it's so difficult. Cancer taught me that you can ask people for help and you have to let them help you. Not just for you but them, everyone needs a job and sometimes that job is pulling drains. Cancer taught me that no matter what giving kindness to your fellow people is major to keeping all things balanced. You don't know what that person in line at Target who is bitching and grumbling is going through so maybe helping them by a simple smiling is all they need. <br />
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I want 2014 to be all it can but I know sometimes I just can't do it all (crap not only did I say that but it's in writing!). This DIEP changed me yet again (another new normal!!!). I feel stronger than I ever did before. I feel like I looked at cancer again with my tiara on and my fists up (quoted from my gf Kathy in Cali) and said "I'm getting me back". Cancer takes, takes and takes some more from us. It<br />
takes our pride, our dignity, it takes our smiles and gives us depression, it takes our sleep and leaves un zombie like insomniacs, it takes our confidence and turns it into doubt, it takes our health and makes us hypochondriacs, it takes our sex life and makes us celibate (the dirty bastard), sometimes our friends and even our spouses are taken away because of cancer, it takes our bodies and attacks it like a beast, it takes our perspective on life and twist and turns it, it even takes a can of "who-hash". Cancer is a greedy bastard just like the Grinch but never has a change of heart no matter how much we sing, dance, wear pink boas or blog. For that reason me taking back my body in 2014 is essential to my battle. I am healing well physically from this major surgery real well, I'm in pain and sore but healing great. The bigger change is mental, I'm so happy mentally the new me is feeling less depressed. That is an awesome why to stick it to cancer because it loves depression it actually feeds on it.<br />
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What will 2014 bring for you? Will you add something to your life or get rid of the trash? Maybe you will choose to make a life altering move or maybe you will choose to simply smile more?! You are not a tree you can move and change, make that first step big or small the choice is up to you. I am all about replanting this year and I will tell ya I kill fake plants so this is going to be a challenge!<br />
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Tomorrow I go with my family to start the New Year off with family, friends, food, laughter, yelling, fighting, food, drinking, games, food, napping, food and did I mention food. I am so excited for this day it's my favorite day if the year. I maybe tried still and a little sore maybe even constipated too but ya know what??? My tiara is on, it's shined and glittery because I'm so proud of this last chapter. I have never been proud of myself until the doctor cut off my implants, ripped opened my stomach then took some tissue and made me a set of two warm, soft toobs that are just me!! And there is only one me afterall.AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-70883822672479004262013-12-18T20:42:00.001-05:002013-12-18T20:42:35.344-05:00Human patch work quilt, kind of gross yet amazing at the same time
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I have been playing with this blog post in my head, which
if you have ever been on 3 different types of pain killers can be a crazy
place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>DIEP is no friggin joke people no
joke. I have two large incisions on my breasts that are healing nice, 6 new
drain hole marks (I hate those god damn mother fucking drains), a new and
improved belly button, and a big ass cut from side to side in my pelvic area.
Let's break it all down shall we?!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The toobs (if you are new here I'm calling them toobs
because they are tissue made boobs) are soft, real looking and WARM! No more
cold foobs, no more. We will watch the scars for keloids, but we are on top of
it now. This is just what I wanted these toobs oh glorious toobs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that this seems so cray cray (as the
kids say) to some but to me I just took two parts of me back from cancer! Take
that you stupid dumb breast cancer beast. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Drains! Why do we hate you so?? Well you are gross tubes
coming out of the side of us. When they tug on things we think they will be
ripped outta our bodies. They have to be dumped 4 times today, grossssssss!
They itch like crazy and by crazy I mean like I am going to go nuts and I can't
scratch them. Oh and did I tell you that you have to hang them around your next
when you shower?? Again gross. The only thing they are worth is when your kids
are screwing up threaten to make them dump those JP Morgan grenades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Totally works. I won't even go into when they
pull them out, the feeling you have oy vey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Someone told me that the DIEP/TRAM is similar to a
c-section. Really?? My incision<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>without
exaggerating goes from my butt check bone on the left to the butt check bone on
the right. Please tell me how many babies came out that big, you can't cause
there are none!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other point here is
that when giving birth which is amazing does not involve the removing of tissue
and muscle to make breasts in a 10 hour surgery, 2 day stay in ICU, 3 more in
hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Keep these things in mind
when you try you comparisons out on people. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The following pictures are very graphic, very. Quote from
my husband "Are you going to post those?" I debated but I really feel
like they need to be seen. This was 2 days after surgery. I am very very
swollen and have gone down a lot since and I mean a lot. And am starting to
take shape nicely, I'm looking forward to watching my body heal. It's been
through a lot and I'm so happy with this chapter. FYI I am in a lot of pain
physically but mentally I feel the healing beginning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I get an email from a sweet chick who my cousin gave my
contact to. We chatted back and forth via email. We talked doctors a few times
about recon and our upcoming surgery. Wait when is your surgery? Just so
happens that my DIEP is Wednesday and Michelle is getting her mastectomy on
Friday, on the floor that I will be moved to. Wouldn't it be funny if we met??
At 3ish on Friday I just got out of ICU they said ok let's get you up to me. So
I put my wedges on, no just kidding that wasn't happening this time, so I get
my sandals on and start walking. I was dizzy, light headed, nausea but I was
up and walking. And I was heading to room 5037 the exact room that I had my
mastectomy in. MC and my nurse were with me and we saw some people milling
around, it was Michelle's family and she was back in her room. Her husband
waved me,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cannot express how happy I
was. There is nothing like a breastie hug nothing. We meet in the halls again
for another walk but the texting was already outta control by then, I hope she
has unlimited! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kigs2jzxiko/UrJOmeMvgoI/AAAAAAAAJJ4/j1_P7z0StYY/s1600/image.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kigs2jzxiko/UrJOmeMvgoI/AAAAAAAAJJ4/j1_P7z0StYY/s200/image.jpeg" width="150" /></a></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d4-H3SaqTnU/UrJNwQXibsI/AAAAAAAAJJs/TpVAo6vCSSo/s1600/R73C1363.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d4-H3SaqTnU/UrJNwQXibsI/AAAAAAAAJJs/TpVAo6vCSSo/s200/R73C1363.jpg" width="133" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I can never ever explain the feeling of meeting someone
with cancer, someone who gets your crazy thoughts, your happy ones, your guilt
and your pain. They understand when to give advice, listen or cry. They just
get it. The bonds I have made through this are insane. I met Jaime another
badass cancer ass kicker, a few weeks ago and if<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a few days go by without a text I worry. Just
today in a simple chat with a breastie left me feeling relieved that someone
gets me and what cancer warriors need, she has a great name too (hint it's Anne
Marie).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next week I will be meeting
someone that I have been talking to for almost a year. We have shared some
private info and some good girl friend chat but most of all we lean on each
other. I'm so excited so excited! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I'm not ready to rock my tiara but the pink boa is near
by.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am looking forward to getting
physically better each day, having my mind heal a little each day and starting
2014 new and improved! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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DISCLAIMER this took way longer than I ever thought and trust when I say I didn't write enough, maybe I should try youtube videos were I talk!!!! <br />
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AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-47652453080735318052013-12-12T10:44:00.000-05:002013-12-12T10:45:53.400-05:00Hahah stupid dumb breast cancer I got two pieces of me back, sucka!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cookies for the hospital staff and shoes for me!</td></tr>
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The surgery was a success! Ohhhhhh yeah. I have soft toobs (tissue boobs), I am so so happy. Drugged and in pain but satisfied. I came into the hospital with some badass wedges with lots of sparkle and try full of Italian cookies for the staff Yes I used bribery even brought another tray for the ICU staff. OPPS did however forget my posse in the waiting room where they waited for 10 hours. They all know where the cookies are. </div>
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Back to the toobies, I have the bestest plastic surgeon on the planet and his side kick amazaboobs. They did a great job and can't wait to show my breasties when they heal. The doctors took two. Swollen lymph nodes which were benign, bam! The entire staff is wonderful, I Mean really wonderful. They are smart, sarcastic and attending to my every whim which can be a little crazy. </div>
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Thanks so much for all your love, support tweets, FB and Instagram comments. I can very drugged up and trying to respond when I can. </div>
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I just. Have to say this... Hahahahaahahahahahahaha cancer I for two pieces of me back! Sucker!! My tiara is shined and boa is fluffed but for now it's nap time! </div>
<br />AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-12011239221249278062013-12-11T09:45:00.002-05:002013-12-11T09:45:35.278-05:00Hey all-<br />
AM went into surgery around 8:30 this morning. Gonna be a long one. She should be out around 5:00 pm. Did she wear crazy heels and make homemade cookies for the hospital staff? Why, yes, she did. Photos coming when I can get to them. My wife kicks ass at surgeries...I'll post again when she is out. Tom. <img src="webkit-fake-url://2484EC8F-5C57-4A09-902F-893C63F02812/imagejpeg" /><br />
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<img src="webkit-fake-url://854E1EDA-0CF8-49EA-A593-499AF7EFA73F/imagejpeg" />AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-47902495041254150712013-12-09T23:05:00.000-05:002013-12-09T23:06:19.632-05:00All I want for Christmas is a wax and stilettos ....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What??? It's totally normal! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtlA2BYeM_6TY9if_174Pza1_46L7GOJGeQ3BEpJip-uK8mmyfJWi6oOCv8bY9x81QbauDLOMJJ4xvv5l-LbYVGhIThOnvEJh9ryeAO26EbiQsCs0R6jehXmfwRrhas5qtTxCqyGqettu/s1600/IMG_4752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVtlA2BYeM_6TY9if_174Pza1_46L7GOJGeQ3BEpJip-uK8mmyfJWi6oOCv8bY9x81QbauDLOMJJ4xvv5l-LbYVGhIThOnvEJh9ryeAO26EbiQsCs0R6jehXmfwRrhas5qtTxCqyGqettu/s320/IMG_4752.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My amazaboobs family "strong like bull"</td></tr>
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No really all I can think about is "shit I need a wax". Some people prep for surgery by packing their bags, making meals and freezing them and getting the house in order. Truth is I threw some pjs into a bag with my make up bag cause I am so sure I will be up for applying foundation! My breastie Amy came by with stuffed peppers, lasagna, chili and a whole bunch of other goodies so why would I bother?? As far as the house goes, well shit it ain't gonna crumble. I know if Nikki is reading this she is so proud! The old me would have gone over board packing, cooking and cleaning, the new me ain't got time for that!! Yes all I can think about is shit I need a wax and I don't just mean ear brow. I got a hair cut last week, I have my priorities!! But am running outta steam and time doc appointment tomorrow got switched and it's messing with me. My very sweet girlfriend owns a salon and wants me to stop in, maybe I'll let her do my EYEBROWS! Doesn't everyone get a Brazilian before a DIEP?? <br />
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Shoes, can we please talk shoes!! I have looked a little but haven't found the right ones. I mean they gave to not only have attitude, be fabulous and sparkly but go with a hospital gown. Do you have any idea how hard that is?? Wear something you have you're thinking, possible but come on it's a 10 hour surgery!! I deserve a pair of shoes that will keep our (by our I mean the posse that will show up with me) minds off the surgery and on to things that make you feel strong. What does that better than a 6 inch stiletto??? Plus it's a trademark we don't want to let the hospital staff down. Shoes make me feel strong and full of attitude, just what I need to go into surgery where I will be laying flat while my very capable doc and his lovely smart assistant does their magic! This is his "signature surgery" seriously it is. He is one of 40 doctors in the US that do these. I feel like I'm getting the Dolce & Gabbana of plastics I think amazaboobs shoes are a must! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3J3GkxEMyYI/UqaSTRVNaII/AAAAAAAAI-s/V9hVbGdqb3A/s1600/IMG_4766.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3J3GkxEMyYI/UqaSTRVNaII/AAAAAAAAI-s/V9hVbGdqb3A/s320/IMG_4766.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A little partyyyyyy to say bye bye to the foobs!</td></tr>
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Am I scared?? No I won't be doing anything but laying there and I know how to do that just fine. I have awesome doctors by my side not to mention I'm brining a tray of Italian cookies so they will be on their game. The recovery will suck but it's doable, the healing will take time but it's doable, I will slowly get a little of me back and that's do-fucking-able. This has to happen for me, for my mind and body. Cancer took so much from me I feel like I'm taking back just a little. Tom will post Wednesday when I go in and throughout the day, remember it's 10 hours and he will not be nearly as witty as me but the grammar will be impeccable! I wonder how fast my posse will annoy the waiting room staff, I wonder how much coffee MC and Tom will drink, I wonder how many times my dad will say "how do you think it's going in there", I wonder how many times GDeb will get everyone something anything to calm them, I wonder if my sister will breathe, I wonder if my brother will stay. The great thing is they all have to deal with each other without me answering, telling them what to do, what to<br />
get or organizing lunch. Really if you think about it they are getting the break! All I know is someone better be shining my friggin tiara!!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N6HAZMRU9cI/UqaRxUbD0zI/AAAAAAAAI-U/REMJuSMIL1c/s1600/IMG_4780.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-N6HAZMRU9cI/UqaRxUbD0zI/AAAAAAAAI-U/REMJuSMIL1c/s200/IMG_4780.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yup Dolce & Gabbana, do they come in a 6.5?!?</td></tr>
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AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-73031696943974511642013-12-03T22:55:00.000-05:002013-12-03T22:55:44.875-05:00We are family, I got all my doll heads and meWe are family<br />
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I was going to write something to honor my sisters bday but my brain is so fried. I kept singing this song from when we were kids and I reread the lyrics. They really embody our family. I can see my sister and I dancing around the house belting this out not really giving it much thought. But now as I read then I think "oh hell yes!!" Happy birthday to my disco Queen sister from her baby princess sister. I love you so much. Thanks for being your late, ding dong, salad making, disco ball, iPad, ever loving tricolor Italian cookie self!<br />
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We are family<br />
I got all my sisters with me<br />
We are family<br />
Get up ev'rybody and sing<br />
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Ev'ryone can see we're together<br />
As we walk on by<br />
(FLY!) and we fly just like birds of a feather<br />
I won't tell no lie<br />
(ALL!) all of the people around us they say<br />
Can they be that close<br />
Just let me state for the record<br />
We're giving love in a family dose<br />
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Living life is fun and we've just begun<br />
To get our share of the world's delights<br />
(HIGH!) high hopes we have for the future<br />
And our goal's in sight<br />
(WE!) no we don't get depressed<br />
Here's what we call our golden rule<br />
Have faith in you and the things you do<br />
You won't go wrong<br />
This is our family Jewel<br />
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<br />AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-8142016700595047712013-12-01T22:13:00.001-05:002013-12-01T22:14:56.740-05:00Foob job, take 2<br />
Today I saw my breasties foobs and I must say they look amazaboobs. Like I am talking wow. She had the <a href="http://www.plasticsurgery.org/news-and-resources/august-2013/gummy-bear-implants.html" target="_blank">gummy bear</a> ones put in and I was blown away at how real they look. The shape, the size and how they sit all look so real. She had a nipple grafted then tattooed areoles and now she looks well for lack of a better word normal. She feels great (well minus the hysterectomy, thanks BRCA 1 gene) because she is completely satisfied with how they look. I agree they do look fabulous. I never thought I would talk about another woman's breasts this much but hey I have to give props to her plastic surgeon, so happy we share the same doc. <br />
I find myself jealous of my friends breasts. I know that is a typical chick issue, the old “I wish I had her boobs” but this is different. I have never been a jealous girl but lately I am feeling that way. I look at how Renee, Lisa, Nancy, Rebecca and so many others have healed so beautiful. I do not just mean the shape but the scars. The k<a href="http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/000849.htm" target="_blank">eloids</a> I get are so pronounced and painful that when I see these smooth, soft breasts I get jealous. I got cancer big friggin deal so did 2.5 million other people but the scars that it left me with are what pisses me off. I know, I know a scar is showing I survived, that I am stronger than whatever tried to hurt me, no shit I quote those all the time but sometimes its hard to see past that when you have 2 ten inch scars across your foobs with 4 holes in the side that you can feel 24/7. My scars do not heal clean and smooth and pretty. They are raised, red and painful. There is a major difference. <br />
I am jealous of them being satisfied too. I am so happy for them that their journey, story or whatever you want to call it has brought them to a place of comfort. I would like a little of that. I hate literally hate like I want to beat someone one senseless these foobs. Nobody ever tells you that part the emotional part of the fake boobs. they pump the perky shit like crazy but they cant prepare your mental state.When my breastie and I compared foobs (that is what we do at <a href="http://stupiddumbbreastcancer.blogspot.com/p/blog-page_11.html" target="_blank">Warrior Wellness</a>) between the scars and the shape of mine and the beauty and realness of hers I was smack in the face with boobs!!! It blew me away how mine look, it blew me away with sadness and anger. I want these fake foreign bricks gone far away before they shift into my back! That would give an whole new meaning to back fat. Remember this is my page to bitch!<br />
As I prepare for the <a href="http://www.breastcancer.org/treatment/surgery/reconstruction/types/autologous/diep" target="_blank">DIEP</a> next week, December 11 I feel excited. Yes I said excited!!!! I want to get a little bit of me back, I feel like I am taking back what cancer took. I have talked to all my breasties and got all the horror stories, ALL of them. I have also got the “it sucks but its doable” and I am ready. I have also heard them tell me how great they feel, a little like themselves. I am armed with a recliner, abdominal binder, meal train, stool softener, drugs and a do not disturb sign (do you know my family???). I know the recovery will be difficult but I know this is what I need. It is not about how they look in my clothes, I see you all looking. I know they look fine there. It is how they look and feel to me, its my body. I am beyond uncomfortable, I am aware of the fake boobs all the time, I am not happy, Do I have to do this surgery?? That is a dumb ass question so do not ask it. I will however answer it…YES. for my body, my mind and my health. I have the best surgical team and they are prepared for a 10 hour surgery. I told them to please feel free to take a break and have a snack. <br />
I am going show shopping this week for a badass, killer pair of stilettos. I am giving this surgery all the attitude I can gather. Which at this point isn't a lot so I need the shoes, much like Wonder Woman needs her bracelets, ohhhhh bracelets. I am taking my body BACK, but still a princess. My tiara will be on my nightstand ready for me when I get home from the hospital, do not even think about touching it. Just for the record she does rock a tiara and killer shoes!!!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&frm=1&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&docid=4ttDFvWkeqcvzM&tbnid=EF8NkhF48fX8QM:&ved=0CAUQjRw&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.telegraph.co.uk%2Fculture%2Fculturepicturegalleries%2F8330642%2FWonder-Woman-and-other-female-superheroes-in-film-and-TV.html%3Fimage%3D1&ei=UvqbUqWcOs3UoASv34Ew&bvm=bv.57155469,d.cWc&psig=AFQjCNGGyNjSrbpON-MQoFSW8J3mF8QAXg&ust=1386040217401493" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img height="393" src="http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01828/wonder_1828455i.jpg" width="393" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I see a serious resemblence </td></tr>
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<br />AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-3865574525535354062013-11-27T01:33:00.000-05:002013-11-27T07:03:09.654-05:00Rosie Posie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_X3moWZDOc2372qi6R1hc3ocxoLos0nf61M8X8RJC4f1Eb5jNcfVz7qHKJz5_0WzquUjUdHrC6JaAaRo84aVfN4ekTMoImlejEdocm2JF-wcs1m_8GUoncs60cgYnzaeNIj6g_83bRAA/s1600/rosie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_X3moWZDOc2372qi6R1hc3ocxoLos0nf61M8X8RJC4f1Eb5jNcfVz7qHKJz5_0WzquUjUdHrC6JaAaRo84aVfN4ekTMoImlejEdocm2JF-wcs1m_8GUoncs60cgYnzaeNIj6g_83bRAA/s400/rosie.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We
love you Rosie </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Oh yes we do</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">We love you Rosie</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">It's true</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">We love your smile </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">and drunk eye too</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Oh Rosie I love you! </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Sung to the jingle of "Healthy,
Normal, American Boy" from the Bye Bye birdie musical. Please don't judge! </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">I would be lost without you, like in a
scary dark place. You understand when I'm sad and can't explain why. You
get that sometimes depression hits at the happiest of moments, those are the
times you dry my tears. You know when to tell me some story that gets my mind
off what I'm thinking yet makes no sense. You knew that our tattoos hope, love,
and live would be just what we needed to start our battle against stupid dumb
breast cancer. You knew that our family is strong in our numbers and it's
forever. You always know when to hug me and when to let go, which is never. You
are there for the boys and for Tom like an auntie should be. You are my Rosie
and I love you. </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Happiest of birthdays to my Rosie who
always knows how to make my tiara shine! </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Xo</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-47373879862815802052013-11-24T15:34:00.002-05:002013-11-24T20:01:15.262-05:00Yes Ann Marie there is a Santa <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTgT_gH8ytFyuXZkdQ1U32GqFKpwuIOZ_Q5EYQpCtf89GGEnFrMb3BSDBHdIHp-AGXXUqIcBY14qPFxkkN604Vyj5XftjzMtKf55afwM88RlRTYwxGXnyQjJ1FzRiCdGrus_Ccn8cKQHt/s1600/IMG_4605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTgT_gH8ytFyuXZkdQ1U32GqFKpwuIOZ_Q5EYQpCtf89GGEnFrMb3BSDBHdIHp-AGXXUqIcBY14qPFxkkN604Vyj5XftjzMtKf55afwM88RlRTYwxGXnyQjJ1FzRiCdGrus_Ccn8cKQHt/s320/IMG_4605.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I know that people get all pissed off when Target puts their Holliday stuff out after the back to school is done but I don't mind it. The holidays no matter what you celebrate make me happy. I love that my Jewish friends light the menorah in celebration of Hanukah. I love that my Christian friends get ready for the birth of baby Jesus. It's a joyous time of the year so stop bitching and try actually enjoying them. Not just the gifts and the food but the feeling of the holidays. Dig deep it's there. There is a magic in the season I just know it!<br />
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When I was about 7 there was a massive storm in upstate NY, I know shocking. We were up at my Uncle Mike and Aunt Carm's on Christmas Eve and the storm hit bad. They lived about 20 minutes from my house and about 20 minutes from my other cousins so no one was going anywhere. We hadn't planned on a big ole sleep over but we went with it. All my cousins were there, we were stuffed from eating but were having a great time so who cares that we were stranded just meant more time screaming at each other in the loving Italian way we do. Now keep in mind I'm not only the family princess but I'm the baby my cousins are all 10 years older. They didn't care if they got their gifts Christmas morning or a day later but what about Santa??? I was right at the age when my friends were all "there ain't no Santa" crap. And I wondered if it was true! I went to sleep at my Aunties all<br />
snuggled in a bed (princesses get beds all the rest took the floor) and thought "if I have gifts in the morning there is a santa!". I didn't tell anyone what I thought I just dreamt of Christmas morning with my cousins and of My Friend Mandy doll.<br />
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I woke up very early and the snow was friggin crazy, it went up to the door and I wondered how we would ever get out. Thank god being the good Italians we had plenty of food! Ok back to the morning. I shoved my sister and told her to wake up she looked at me like I was nuts for what, PRESENTS ugh she was dense. But then I thought she's right If Santa was real there'd be gifts cause he would know where I was, if she doesn't care there's no such thing and my gifts are at 332 Orwood Place. I remember how bad I wanted that doll and how sad I was. I woke everyone up and we went downstairs to wake the smelly older boys, my brother included.<br />
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Holy Jesus and Happy Shamus!!! There were frigging gifts under that tree, a lot. My name was on some "AMIE", holy holy holy he is real. Santa is real. I opened the presents with everyone, there was paper everywhere, yelling and a fried something smelling so good. Then I opened it.... There she was Mandy! Yes Ann Marie there is a Santa! I called Tracy cause ya always call your BFF. Best Christmas ever, ever. I went back to school and told my stupid friends they were wrong Santa is real<br />
and he hooked me up. They agreed Santa was totally awesome and real.<br />
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When I think of that Christmas I try so hard to think about how my family was reacting to me. I'm crying as I'm typing cause I see Linda nudging Maria. I see Lori smiling and brushing my hair. I can see my brother laughing with Tommy, Chucky and Dave I thought they were making fun of me. I see my Grandma rubbing my dads shoulders and my Uncle Chuck and Uncle Mike nodding their heads. My aunt Madeline's cooking with Aunt Carma nod their whispering and smiling. I see me playing with my Mandy completely oblivious to them but feeling so filled with love, magic and joy, the energy from them.<br />
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I tell my kids this story and about how I felt and how awesome it was when they give me the Santa crap because that was all real and Santa is real. I stop the story there though to them. But my daddy and my 2 uncles got in their car and drove 2 hours to Lyncourt then 2 hours back to get the gifts. They are the real Santas but the magic of what they did is what the holidays are about. My mother had been gone for 6 years but between the trial and the aftermath I'm sure the hurt was still raw. They just as much as me need the magic of Christmas. They need the warmth, laughter, love and joy. Isn't that what the holidays are about? Giving others and the feeling it gives you! Isn't it about love and life no matter how difficult your life is.<br />
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Maybe this story is exaggerated, maybe it only took an hour but I don't care the magic is there. I have some major tests coming up and a very intense surgery and I keep thinking of this time in my life, when my family needed happiness and joy and how they did just that by making the princess happy. And I am forever grateful, forever. As I shine my tiara for my MRI next week and look for new stilettos for the DIEP (need me some Jimmy Choo's) I will keep this memory in my heart. I know this is the season for magic, joy, and hope and I know that my family will be there to fill my house and life with just that!AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-32284114148230934952013-11-17T21:43:00.000-05:002013-11-17T22:57:22.002-05:00I'm sorry did I order a mastectomy?<img height="200" src="webkit-fake-url://FE631704-168A-4495-ACC8-292AA71A59C7/imagejpeg" width="200" /><br />
I'm in a mood so I hope you can stay with me. There are so many stages of cancer, degrees, different types, and treatments all that making everyone's journey different than the last. Now add the personality of the person in and BAM different again. Doesn't make it the right or wrong way, just makes it their way. When I was told I had cancer and my options were a lumpectomy with radiation or a mastectomy I choose the mastectomy, my choice! I don't ask for a mastectomy cause I was bored, I had friggin cancer. Does that make my cancer less, no it makes it different. Can I relate to every cancer badass out there, no I can not but I sure as hell can try to find someone who can. Shit I don't even like everyone cancer or not some people are just mean.<br />
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The reason I am saying this is because there is sometimes this fucked up competition with cancer. WHAT?! Yup you heard me right, people actually compete, compare and judge someone by their cancer. I want to say its the cancer doing it not them but shit I think it's the person really. You can't judge someone's journey unless you walk in it. You can't compare how they are dealing by how you did you are different people. Not to mention how does any of it effect you? It doesn't effect you at all. It effects them and they are doing the best they can just like you.<br />
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Some people thought I was nuts because I wore stilettos into my surgery, while I am nuts but I had my reasons. Don't worry I'm gonna tell them to you. First, I love shoes! Second, my sweet BFF's daughter bought the for me to make me happy and they did so I wanted something happy the day of surgery. Third, it gave everyone something to talk about besides what was about to happen, mastectomy from cancer unless you forgot. Last, those shoes made me feel strong, empowered, and brave. I needed to feel those things for me cause I was scared as hell. You can't judge my shoes unless you walk in them, they are 6 inch heels go ahead and try!<br />
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People actually judged Deborah from shaking her thang before surgery, why?? What does anyone care if that helped her get through like my shoes helped me? What if that video helped someone down in the dumps, what if that lifted their spirits? My friend Tessa cried, as she puts it "like a big<br />
ass fool" as the wheeled her away because that's what she needed to do. What if her crying showed someone they were not alone? Why do we look to the negative so fast instead of embracing the positivity in these situations? After the surgeries and treatments (if you have treatments which some people do not but which are so different) you do whatever you need to get by. I choose blogging and reaching out, seems to work for me. I met an amazing warrior today at my support group that was like "I do what I do and get by. When it's done it's done I will move on". She is awesomely awesome and her positive energy is infectious and I want her to come back. My breastie Kim walked in crying this week, last week it was Rebecca both for different reasons but they needed that. Guess what, they ware just was awesomely awesome as the next one because they are doing what they need to get by!<br />
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Cancer is a stupid dumb ass that messes with you on so many levels, yes I know I've said that before but for some reason no one is listening to me. It's stupid because it can sometimes bring out the worse in people when they are going through enough as it is. Respect for those battling their own battle is so vital not just cancer battle but life! You don't know what someone's life it like when they shut that door, so why would you judge how they handle their life. I may seem like I'm Miss Positivity but crap I'm in physical pain from cancer, emotional pain from cancer but am choosing to smile to show cancer I'm stronger than it. You can't judge me unless you have held my hand, wiped my tears, laughed your ass off when I trip or shinned my tiara.<br />
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I didn't choose a mastectomy because it was in InStyle magazine and trendy, I choose it because I had cancer. So I will deal with it like I know how, in stilettos and a tiara because I'm me regardless of cancer.AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-3919895851433794982013-10-30T02:58:00.000-04:002013-10-30T02:58:00.770-04:00Jules happiest of days<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRHmFJa8GvOWB_OAO1ZEbI5eeOjt0DhLMMF49a2TQVVIs7KMTM0PoIHKSXxwuOf9P8YiPBXSLK1PBPh0esa-5-QEUXRyc1LuZcCeseolhaU3wLCkuraWZDLq8eHGisIv_kwPIFHiCcVhM8/s1600-h/Julian%252520Albert%252520009%25255B2%25255D.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Julian Albert 009" border="0" height="184" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-DDbaxMG6-Us/Um-4PySmf_I/AAAAAAAAITM/8RDJrKJpQ1c/Julian%252520Albert%252520009_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; margin: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="Julian Albert 009" width="244" /></a><br />
<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-kacYp2DuPz0/Um-4QfJJ77I/AAAAAAAAITY/pdrf-jNgWm4/s1600-h/DSC_1431%25255B3%25255D.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="DSC_1431" border="0" height="164" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-INXFhZ18HRw/Um-4Q3KQf4I/AAAAAAAAITc/9Ma4iiDp6I0/DSC_1431_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="DSC_1431" width="244" /></a>Right before this amazing OPPS baby (you know what I mean the opps I didn’t have my husband fix the plumbing!!) was born my grandmother died, I mean like days before. I held him in so we could bury a grandmother that was more like a mother to us. After the services were over my OB insisted I come in, “How the hell this baby is still in you is beyond me!! GO STRAIGHT TO THE HOSPITAL, do not stop for French fries (I did this with Sam and he knew me all to well).” SO we went there a few hours later this adorable Jules was born. He was truly a gift from Nana something to turn our sadness to joy and make our family see that life continues. <br />
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Julian was so cute and extremely cuddly, still is we often wonder if Dr. Rick forgot to cut the cord! Thank the gods he is because the kid has a temper like no other and cried like no child before him and never slept, I mean EVER and ate like a pig. I have no idea who this kid takes after, hahaha. But he fit in perfectly. I am not sure if the other boys just wanted to shut him up or if they actually were helping calm the crier either way he still gets his way to this day.<br />
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What this little monkey butt did for sure was give Anthony his best friend. Julian leans on Anthony and Anthony holds him up. They talk, share secrets and bitch about how the older boys are jerks. Just what a brother needs a buddy.<br />
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He is a ninja and will do a cartwheel to get to his Ninjago legos faster than you <br />
can say “DUDE!!!!” He is my most violent child so do not touch his TMNT or anything else he has claimed, he will take you down! Do not dare him because he will accept the challenge and take your money no problems. Again I have no idea where he comes from.<br />
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<a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Tvx_Z3rqUiU/Um-4SKeAXII/AAAAAAAAIT0/03RoY21T-Lk/s1600-h/money%252527%25255B3%25255D.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="money'" border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9t5OcjyrnTFb2EX5zoNBAX7_EaO1cNgzDworiJmNL2peKbuTNN8aeHOrfK_jp023Muh1noW-jyaUsKvj5Vd3hbxAW8YdwyKkH7DKqOWa-YcMq2O-fhstNf7mQZ0CdDWRYtqchoWXBRlz8/?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="money'" width="244" /></a>Julian will forever be my baby and not just because he is the last kid but because he is completely attached to me.Julian can walk in heels higher than me and with such swag. He understands how important it is to sparkle and that glitter is a color. He will snuggle with me all day if I didn’t have to pee or he had to go to school. And one thing is for sure he not only knows his momma is a princess, he shines my tiara!!<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTa7RrQP9UGojTZCBamdZCG6QTlqsRGSgjOixH0yPixlJAWxtr6zIuFP9i1cBFUOClUl0zYbEAssmJzNWFsaU80155jGt7PKSWqiUTuWr7VhbAAorkvsKpuLjt9wDyenyfOqoAa4LlTLrg/s1600-h/mej%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img alt="mej" border="0" height="244" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Ty65TZdb_Hc/Um-4TtcexRI/AAAAAAAAIUM/UGbTvSDTSBQ/mej_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="mej" width="184" /></a><br />
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Happy Birthday to my Glittery ninja!!<br />
<a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-5HWE4DTnzOk/Um-4UB8ZpUI/AAAAAAAAIUY/132RYOfVtoo/s1600-h/lumps0300%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="lumps0300" border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuvIXAYzDKsl439nt29yMwiQE3ZD4P_36PGb6VlFBky2yPv6rz4ZUN67IeA5DE-wZZa8MTfQwDe6LFQ4verw_1uwnVou_QNJdcjngdBFXdNVaBy_RDDYSA5p9ukpqi8AvDV0Z5HYBzMeUT/?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="lumps0300" width="244" /></a>AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-57630595274460838582013-10-24T15:43:00.001-04:002013-10-24T15:43:51.682-04:00Going insane got no brainOk well the MRI showed I had a brain but whether it is on the fritz remains to be determined. It is hard to say when a cold is just a cold or if something brewing. After DX, whenever you get a headache, toothache, hang nail or backache you think "Mother of all that is evil it must be bad, it must be cancer". It is so difficult to figure out when to call the doc, which doc to call and whether it is really serious. The ache that has been there for more than 4 weeks probably should be address. Guess what, it actually could be just a pulled muscle from lifting all those chips or from stress. The problem is our head starts making us second guess every ache/pain/change in body. I would always tough it out and wait until the last minute now I have ALL my docs on speed dial. The problem is when do you call??? How do you call?? At this point I think Ghost Busters might be able to help me. I really feel like I am losing my mind, yes I may have lost it but now it is going haywire like serious craziness. Yet I know I am not alone, right please tell me I am not alone. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes possibly</td></tr>
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I have had some headaches, watery eye, head pressure and a bunch of other crap since last November they said nerve damage, OK fine. Well guess what it has not gone away and has only increased. Then BAM lost hearing, now its muffled with serious pressure. Some days the pain is horrible and I just want to cry. Add a little stiff neck and I am like WTF I must be dying (don't send flowers just yet!!). MRI says brain is still there and in good condition minus all the pot I smoked when I was young. Some inflammation but no tumors, well hot damn!!! Yet the pain and pressure and ear ringing is still there (or is it, maybe it is just my overacting). I was told by the ENT to take a muscle relaxer and call it a day, basically it was in my head. You get me here right?? You waffle between it is nothing to OMG its cancer which you had so you know it is impossible. The doc looks at you like you are nuts and maybe you are but damn there is no need to make me feel that way. You want it to be nothing and hope it will be but what if it is something! I think docs need to understand this and that you want to be healthy and fit into your before cancer jeans so bad!! Do you ever get pass the fear?? I do not think so ever. I have seen too many friends suffer and have been through enough to not be scared. So I find myself sitting and letting the pain build and feel all the symptoms just to prove to myself I am not making this up. Which it totally not fun, just saying. Going insane is not at all as enjoyable as I thought.<br />
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I am off to the neurologist next month and while I really hope he tells me I am ok it is stress or another skittle I am so scared it is something bugger. And what more is all I want is relief from the discomfort. Maybe I need a lobotomy or glasses or a vacation. YES that is it I need a vacation, who has a time share? I am not looking to head to the mountains in a closed up cabin for the winter with Tommy if you get my picture. The Queen must be looking to vacation with a princess!<br />
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AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-27601951870353855872013-10-10T14:52:00.001-04:002013-10-10T14:54:16.671-04:00I wasn’t going to but now I am PINK<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I will have this pink ribbon forever LIVE, HOPE, LOVE </td></tr>
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I swore I was going to refrain from this but I feel the need to let loose, god help all those around me. I am just sick of the “pinkwashing” and “pinkbashing” that there has to be a happy medium. It is so secret that I love pink, the color makes me feel fabulous so I am drawn to it. I like the way I look in pink, yellow not so much I have olive skin coloring. So that in itself is an issue, not everyone likes pink and that is ok. Do I think the marketing world is trying hard to sell the pink ribbon, for sure! Do I think that it is in part because they are breast and breast sell, oh hell yes. Do I think that they are selling pink without education, damn straight. Do I think this can be helped, no I do not but we can educate ourselves on how to deal.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pink to them makes them smile</td></tr>
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When my boys wear pink or that ribbon we all want to bitch about it makes them smile. The smile is because not only did their adorable princess momma have breast cancer but she is here today to hug them. When Tom wears his pink rubber bracelet it makes him for a moment think of all we have fought for and how love and support took breast cancer over. They love supporting all that pinkalious stuff to tell anyone who will listen just what Stupid Dumb Breast Cancer is about and what it did to our family, make us stronger. They have nothing but pride when they wear that, is that wrong??? I dare you to tell them it is.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-XdfeDNnPydk/Ulb2i476cfI/AAAAAAAAIRw/4ueWHT33md8/s1600-h/lumps0067%25255B3%25255D.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="lumps0067" border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc1NpNjReu2nbPh03RqCQFJMCXjz2GFC8iayGVdCafT7UlSn4TrnAE5e4HjN9qjaoHjwXLK_SynjIGdZyj_Yn0JybZX1bCITSIi7C8Uhja0eCBjFGgj4r8b4jwKinOiyupaQw2FpiTQlm9/?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="lumps0067" width="164" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YAHOOOO for my girls who will never be anything less than sisters.</td></tr>
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When my BFF’s rock the pink for me it is to show that they will always be at my side, always. For me when I wear anything that has breast cancer on it I do think about all my friends that have lost their battle. When someone says “did you have breast cancer?” It opens up this conversation about breast health, getting your mammos and feeling your boobs up. For me it is a chance to share my story in hopes that someone learns something. Maybe when she wears her pink breast cancer whatever she has (I have never seen her closet) my friend <a href="http://talesofabrokenboobie.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Nancy</a> can talk about being triple negative and teach about how she took cancer by the horns and beat it up! Maybe wearing that ribbon will give me a chance to talk about this amazing woman <a href="http://alrighttit.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Lisa</a> who lost her battle but never gave up hope. Why can’t the pink ribbon open up conversation???<br />
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Well here is why because so many companies abuse the hell out of it. When you buy that bag of cotton balls (I hate cotton balss so I never would buy them but maybe you would) that have pink ribbons on it you think “awesome I can clean my face and help those battling”. Not always the case.Check the back, where does the money go? Some no name place that does nothing? how much goes, most cap what they will donate. And how much goes, there is always a percent. I remember a jean company (do not ask me the name cause I can not remember and I do not feel like looking it up, you can though, let me know) sold pink ribbon jeans for the cause. Yeah well only $.008 went out of the $50.00 that cost for the jeans, they capped it at $25,000 and the money went to “a breast cancer research”. Really?? Then there is the products that are just bad for you, KFC greasy ass chicken should not be consumed by anyone much less someone battling cancer. Use your head here people or not if it makes you happy then buy the damn chicken I am not your mother. I am just here to guide you. <br />
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I will tell you what gets me more is when dumb ass products are the ads have smiling, beautiful woman who look so happy to have cancer. There is always an African-American, an elderly and a middle aged Caucasian, I swear they think this covers everyone, they are hugging and smiling like they just went to see “Magic Mike”. I was never happy ever, I laughed cause it got me through but happy no friggin way. I know laughing my way through cancer was the only way I could deal so I sure did. How about using this image if you want a smile…<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/--Z_kUsWmiJ4/Ulb2j-QLFlI/AAAAAAAAISA/aknIFSeSxP4/s1600-h/lumps0277%25255B3%25255D.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="lumps0277" border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwr1NfMASYDwtwky-NStNPWmOAplM0LrWGbbWnEn6v-SUNdVgY6J6s1qOReqsukaiinwTuONDQCPzAl5S0yg9eIWX2PugCId9RdudQzOoqG2WLf7Toiu9zEBlYn17MH9QjXHWBR6B6VnZK/?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="lumps0277" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">what is behind that pink ribbon, my reality</td></tr>
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Yes there is a smile but the reality of how breast cancer changes you is smack there. Not everyone wants to smile some can’t there is too much against them. But showing them a fake image is never going to help or make them feel empowered. No one wants to talk about those with metastatic breast cancer but the truth is they are who we should be focusing on. The reality of their mortality is in their face 24/7. My friend <a href="http://lisabadams.com/" target="_blank">Lisa</a> says it all and holds nothing back. Her life is not tied pretty in a pink ribbon.<br />
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I know you are reading this think WTF is she nuts and totally all over the place, well we know I am but I just want you dumbasses to see all the points here and make your own choices. There are some awesome places to donate. Of course there is always SDBC and my mission for Bravery Bags, I want to help those in this community and make them smile just a little. It may not change the world but it changes one persons world and that is fabu for me. <a href="http://www.cancerconnects.org/" target="_blank">Cancer Connects</a> is a local group that provides complimentary therapy, mentors and aide to my peeps in my community!! Check <a href="http://www.armyofwomen.org/" target="_blank">Army of Woman</a> who are doing amazing research in the cancer world by using real breast cancer warriors. I am proud to be a part of any study I can fit into. <a href="http://www.metavivor.org/" target="_blank">Metavivor</a> is a new organization committed to change the world of Mets which as of now only gets 2% of funding to the 30% who have mets. Maybe giving to <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/personalink/" target="_blank">Personal P.ink</a> so that survivors can covers those scars and get their self back just a little. So do not tell me there are not important organizations out there that are doing great things, you can also not tell me that they do not rock the pink just a little. The difference is they do it responsibly, try that!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Z6RHcnUlG90/Ulb2lBcxinI/AAAAAAAAISQ/loIL-h1XniU/s1600-h/pinkout034-2392662168-O%25255B3%25255D.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="pinkout034-2392662168-O" border="0" height="164" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-o5kw0icW_lQ/Ulb2luVp7BI/AAAAAAAAISU/YiSmtQif6p8/pinkout034-2392662168-O_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="pinkout034-2392662168-O" width="244" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pink OUT where wearing pink made you a queen, drag style</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Life is a party no matter what it is throwing at you. If you want it to be a pink bash have at it or maybe it will be a black tie affair the choice is yours. Who are we to judge. You can either be a party pooper (hint no one like that person they suck) or the life of the party (that is me and I throw a killer party) just do it the right way. I have a great neon pink dress and high ass heels so if you are having a party please invite me, I just need time to shine my tiara!AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-39696472501206528812013-10-04T02:32:00.000-04:002013-10-04T02:41:16.352-04:00Anthony Jude the way cool dude<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-U0LoQYC6-F4/Uk4vrgFtaMI/AAAAAAAAIQY/iZo5VxQ7Q_Q/s1600-h/otis_0110%25255B2%25255D.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="otis_0110" border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdqpSMEUr1kfQAint8sUkzYgKOOKfCVoL8Lb4zFVxcWtJAAfLdDcgK-W1aqaUV36VUsUemYtzvHMNLl6JA95oyDWs5-rv-oJWLovu3wMt7BHMOdGRfa_eRJPhOdnAlOSWeUaf9EjMDLTzH/?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; margin: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="otis_0110" width="164" /></a></td></tr>
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I love the way you make pancakes all by yourself and how proud you are when everyone eats them up. I love when you read a book to Jules all snuggled on the couch. I love watching you play soccer with the older boys because I know you are giving it your all. I love the smile on your face when its Sunday and we are having rigatonis! I love that you are named after my mom. I love listening to you sing even though the lyrics are completely inappropriate. I love you even though when I think of your delivery I can only remember punching daddy and screaming at anyone that entered, once a pain always a pain! I love that today you turn 8 cause 8 is great just like you!<br />
<a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Um1hrZ15KFY/Uk4vsglyNRI/AAAAAAAAIQo/m8nD1N0Ur0Q/s1600-h/DSC_1333%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="DSC_1333" border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrU0QbeuSWULi_DSwfPBPTmxNHO9C9WKVXADe_g9RfYVIE7rytZs1v4KtQvlJTAquKZZUPmNhsUOYKQiq7shjDn0xmM7jccdA6j6PzHih6Ke_Emz0h7ogtZ24IcssSwlkNs02hgSBzejZr/?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="DSC_1333" width="244" /></a><br />
All of this almost negates the fact you pick on your brothers and taunt them while walking through the house in muddy cleats! But the fact that you out of all the kids treats me like a princess makes you my favorite (just don’t tell the others). <br />
<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-lKc0rFQHj9Q/Uk4vtuddgLI/AAAAAAAAIQ4/iqlbXMUE2Bw/s1600-h/lumps0302%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="lumps0302" border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH5Kd4ZWEwnQmX8JRwWlrvqXNb-T5fOWt7Nfcc_Xfa6mxc-hrN-ZPEJIivQYJb9nIR12u5pk5pPDZ9mHGGhKtB3BBwIrUi4IiRkcrOVO400qjJlljJsza4jkBf2meITHTu7fa1EvoVAfje/?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="lumps0302" width="164" /></a>AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-23080230038978778512013-09-24T20:13:00.000-04:002013-09-24T20:14:35.363-04:00Personal P.ink<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I do not normally do this but this is a project I really believe in, like completely! Check it please!! I was even part of their inspirations, awesome right? </span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img src="webkit-fake-url://2EB84FC7-30E1-45E5-BAFF-61A2767C7217/imagejpeg" /></span>
<img src="webkit-fake-url://F5848DFC-CE19-4165-88E4-EBC77317A29E/imagejpeg" /><br />
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<img height="200" src="webkit-fake-url://F63B263E-B011-4431-BE81-D66C20CBEDAD/imagepng" width="150" /><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">am not a breast cancer expert, but I do know that breast cancer takes the control away from each individual. My name is Jillian, and I am here on behalf of P.INK because we have launched a day where we can give women the opportunity to take backsome of the control they lost. Our first annual P.INK Day is being held on October 21, 2013 in New York City and we are linking 10 very talented female tattoo artists with 10 survivors who have undergone mastectomies to cover their scars, and/or adorn them.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I know that tattoos cannot erase that time in these survivors lives, but my hope is that they do provide a sense of healing for moving on and give them something to be excited about when looking at their own bodies.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Our<strong> </strong>hope for P.INK Day, is that this becomes an annual event to not only give women the chance to get a free tattoo, but to raise awareness of this healing option, so that in the future, all survivors, anywhere, can seek skilled, experienced artists who can help.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Our plan is to make these ladies feel as comfortable as possible and embrace this time they have to take back control of their lives and move on with something as beautiful as a tattoo.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">So, I ask you today, to please help us make our first P.INK Day possible, so we can continue to change the post breast cancer lives of many women across the world.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Please make your donation here.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">And if you happen to be interested in getting a tattoo in future P.INK Days, please send us an email at help@p-ink.org.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Also, help us spread the word:</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.facebook.com/PersonalInk" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;">www.facebook.com/PersonalInk</span></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.twitter.com%2Fpersonal_ink&h=_AQH86AKG&s=1" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">www.twitter.com/personal_ink</span></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.p-ink.org&h=DAQGZ991a&s=1" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">www.p-ink.org</span></a><br />
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<a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Figg.me%2Fat%2Fpinkday&h=qAQHlO7Y0&s=1" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://igg.me/at/pinkday</a></div>
AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-52439898019988747572013-09-16T15:15:00.001-04:002013-09-16T15:15:36.200-04:00Boob job my ass<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz8h9v7zPum2aATfAM_J4C35benehlPCZWdul6zmTTGuNcY5Zz7qnmFeDjEHuyNqFuH5QGX8JSiRRwkylupbpGgmaMuDsJT3gDduLZ8jEY4OP4Cdcj0bqOvRd_9okPMoloGgKlzanH4O7J/s1600/AMOTIS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz8h9v7zPum2aATfAM_J4C35benehlPCZWdul6zmTTGuNcY5Zz7qnmFeDjEHuyNqFuH5QGX8JSiRRwkylupbpGgmaMuDsJT3gDduLZ8jEY4OP4Cdcj0bqOvRd_9okPMoloGgKlzanH4O7J/s320/AMOTIS.jpg" width="263" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">“Oh so you get a free tummy tuck too” WTF seriously FREE!! I
had cancer that is where this all started not because I am obsessed with
friggin Nip N’ Tuck. I never once asked for these foobs nor did I want
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No offense what so ever to those
with tucks and nips, none that was your choice and you should have at it. I
have not yet met at cancer badass that has said “Phew I really enjoyed this
whole process, I am sooooo happy I got cancer cause this is just what I wanted”.
NO A SINGLE ONE! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was going along fine with my floppy, breast feed out boobs
just fine. Sure they sagged but they were mine oh mine. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then BAM got cancer and it all unfolded. I
needed to decided then whether it was lumpectomy or mastectomy, reconstruction
or flat and fabulous. There was no one telling me to slow down and really think
this through, what it is you want in the end. It happened so fast I made
decisions based on what I thought people did. I had never wanted implants but
it seemed my only option. Honestly I may seem all brave and together but I am
not any of that when the idea of going flat was brought up. Call me vain but I needed to have
something there. So I got expanders that they pumped up then had the implants
put in. That may seem so cut and dry but until you are in it the feeling is surreal, especially with cancer looming over head. Which from the get go I hated, no I will not go on again about how fake
they are but that is how I feel like an alien. I have plenty of friends that feel great in
the implants and are ok with them, but again they did not ask for them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">For me they are not working, not physically, mentally or
anything in between. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So it is the DIEP
and the real me. At the cost of a long mother fucking surgery, major recovery
and whatever else is thrown at me but I did not ask for this. I need this for
my recovery for my healing from CANCER. That is the difference. I did not call
the plastic surgeon to ask for a tummy tuck/boob job, I went in for my follow
up from this lumpy ass journey and that is what we decided.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I do not olok forward to a flat stomach (ok a little but that isn't what the big picture is about), I look forward to feeling like ME just a little.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE if you are reading this blog I hope
you get the message I am trying to say. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If not let me clarify that saying “Oh you are so
lucky to get a free boob job” or “Oh boy a free tummy tuck” or “Aren’t you
happy to have free perky boobs?” should never be said, ever! Add the
neuropathy, lymphedema, nerve damage, weight gain and all the other crap that
we get on top of the CANCER and it is not free, the price we pay is beyond what
anyone can afford. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This princess loves to ask for free shoes, a sparkly tiara
on sale or a great price on a dress because those are fabulous! Getting cancer
for a Nip N’ Tuck not so fabulous, just saying.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-26899062610454838252013-09-13T00:40:00.000-04:002013-09-13T00:40:07.040-04:00Perfect marriage, blahahahahaah<br />
<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-_WvHYSF9QpQ/UjGvwGoQ8wI/AAAAAAAAIOQ/XE15nszkUK8/s1600-h/wed%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img alt="wed" border="0" height="184" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Xdu3P6DSZjE/UjGvwjvbILI/AAAAAAAAIOY/YgyaTl1WD5k/wed_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="wed" width="244" /></a><br />
16 ever loving years of marriage 21 years together are we friggin crazy???? Yes a little. I hate those people that say they have the “perfect marriage” “we never fight”, its bullshit total BS. I could give you the whole “a marriage is built on….. “ (fill in the blanks) but every marriage needs something different. We are so far from perfect we boarder insanity, but we don't give up on each other, top that suckas. Tom and I are total opposites and sometimes that works and sometimes it doesn’t. We fight, have our challenges but at the end of the day we lay next to each other in loving comfort. Does that make the fact he doesn’t shut the lights off when he leaves a room ok, oh hell no but I still love him. When he silently corrects my grammar I know he just can’t help it and he loves me, it’s when he vocally corrects it I wanna smack him. We drive each other crazy and that is all part of this wacky marriage.<br />
<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-1ZOM7wGbztw/UjGvxPFgELI/AAAAAAAAIOg/Jy2yYxhug6c/s1600-h/lumps0224%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="lumps0224" border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQs1rWFumhJuzZZJULVAjNu8GrFNpCBSkMp-5Apc7XIg-rcebfGty-CtzfvYxLZS0T-C9S94qaTGRRgNxAFuqVLubpNf5vVpCkVkJmFkpZT4b2rYOgTyEv1CJbORu1_tQLIJU1ISWrt-qY/?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="lumps0224" width="244" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjncUWljV_I3gRaAyKaqXUGC5ppXwoPxl8Mxa1r1c9MfLajDmZ_1yfU9KC5P7C6b2xpfIHit2uF50JAS08besCMlYeHCsx0K3JgqbO5cYuvofDuA-4hzTtPIJZ32RVU08gO5SRh73iN2lvJ/s1600-h/lumps0323%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="lumps0323" border="0" height="244" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-rQ4ft9Tw49Q/UjGvyLYU9BI/AAAAAAAAIO4/Ml8hRXKpOWo/lumps0323_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="lumps0323" width="164" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV6ZizKJcvGKTh5nj5RnTPlhi-rUYPqp2yzwewQd7_9gFh79zNXgfc_DR_EQ1QvAZ4dJwUTG0lezixj0z_FioCXG1474RD5MDda7SdGcvGhrZLVSdqtdm3RN87rJMthgcNrmxZtRBsbif8/s1600-h/lumps0335%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="lumps0335" border="0" height="244" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Pp4_V9Iys2Y/UjGvzI0mTuI/AAAAAAAAIPI/h5TJnGHXcm8/lumps0335_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="lumps0335" width="164" /></a> <br />
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Stupid Dumb Breast Cancer changed me, him and our marriage. I have met so many who had their marriage destroyed because of the beast. I am proud to say it made us stronger. We have learned that we each are hurting through this and we respect that. We both decided that we would not let cancer consume our marriage and we fought like hell to understand each other. Tom learned that he can’t save me from cancer and all I needed was for him to hold my hand, I love that part just love it. Cancer exhausted us both of us, ok me more but I will give him that he suffered from sleep too. Tom doesn’t care what my scars look like, how much weight I gain or how insane this has made me, he really doesn’t. I guess you can say I am lucky, pretty damn lucky.For a man that doesn’t like to be public he stands by my big mouth and small foobs as my mission against cancer grows, I am so proud of him! Doesn’t that mean he always says the right thing or that I don’t fly off the handle no way just means we get the reasons why cancer has altered us forever. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXRNSuEWTKVIokFWJL2XS12Rw3dCIDZxhnBfRPBrTNh36ZfzTS3YTbG0G8xRHRcLbvIjrGECVyMF42xze7xQdlQtYcvEiWADqh801HxVuWbFQ5JbEuVRtOhIbsauAY1-uKtj0G7G8MKp6e/s1600-h/thatfamily%25255B3%25255D.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="thatfamily" border="0" height="184" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-yOzWYWgXclY/UjGv0I3qzLI/AAAAAAAAIPY/T-3dmZrzyOU/thatfamily_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border: 0px currentColor; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="thatfamily" width="244" /></a>The damn kids never help a marriage I am sorry kids but it’s true. They add an insane amount of stress no doubt but when the morning comes and you have these 4 amazing monkeys snuggling with you in a full size bed it all makes sense. When we got married a couple that we love and respect said to me, “When you have kids do not put them before your marriage. Your marriage comes first”. I remember thinking that is cray cray, your kids should be your priority. But the reality is that if the marriage isn’t working the kids are suffering too. I get that statement more than I ever thought and this past year has amplified that. <br />
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So as we celebrate our anniversary I can say that this week I sure do love Tom a lot, next week that may change but I am going for it. How many grammatical errors were in this blog post, ask Tom he will tell you?? I can say for certain through it all he does an amazing job of shining my tiara!! <br />
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<br />AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2067766213090939973.post-70564484477133906632013-09-05T22:59:00.002-04:002013-09-05T22:59:39.912-04:00Sammy Boy<br />
<a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-8pE10qydiEM/UieD3relYzI/AAAAAAAAIMs/j5VbGh6YiRM/s1600-h/DSC_0144%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img alt="DSC_0144" border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0kbLIlIZBKhVPfKMsL3OnxEdUaILB8S5Ihigoyxkoqfjt4KJq4hzdfgcIV_pf4246LA_fRNQ5x5Q2dTuMICXG9HgBex7B0ihQMsObT1bGkMw0U4wUSS34co9bZnVPBhsgnbAs1WF0FIYZ/?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="DSC_0144" width="207" /></a><br />
Dear my Sammy Boy,<br />
WOW can not believe you are 11 today. Where did it go my big headed baby?? It seems like yesterday that you were born. Ben used to love to hold you with the Boppy and rub your hand now you two just want to smack each other with your hands! Yet I know you are the best of friends. This past year has been hard on my smiling Sammy. Some people say their kid always smiles but you have been smiling since birth. Even when I am screaming at you there is still a smile on your face. There is even one on that round beautiful face when your brothers are getting in trouble, I think that's your favorite time to smile on you little knucklehead! You never miss a chance to make someone crack up which sometimes makes me want to crack your head! You have one of the kindest hearts I know always helping the underdog. You are my go with the flow kid and really always looks on the brighter side! Birds birds birds that is all I can say about that.<br />
The night before my surgery you laid next to me sobbing, that was the hardest thing to watch. I hate that cancer took your smile away, really hate that. I know how worried you still are and I wish I could take that fear away. This was the one time you could not joke or smile and cancer sucks for taking that from you. <br />
<a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-hH7QnnrwhS0/UieD4rn2RbI/AAAAAAAAIM8/yXi5cmjbX_s/s1600-h/ben%252520bday%2525202007%252520036%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img alt="ben bday 2007 036" border="0" height="244" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-dTFfI3mLPaA/UieD58GGrUI/AAAAAAAAINE/ZCunZuO_qp0/ben%252520bday%2525202007%252520036_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="ben bday 2007 036" width="184" /></a><br />
I know you drive me friggin nuts with your wise acre attitude (not sure where you get that from!) but I know in the long run you will be a more confident person because of it. I could not be any more prouder of the young man you are becoming. Except of course when you are tormenting Anthony which you have seem to do amazingly well. I know how happy you are to share a birthday with Beyonce I just wish for your sake she was as excited as you! <br />
<a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-DckLyiEesFY/UieD6IKdGrI/AAAAAAAAINM/uVUDxtZidPc/s1600-h/IMG_5968%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="IMG_5968" border="0" height="184" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-HWQkSDBfAMo/UieD6rE0PbI/AAAAAAAAINU/oIwuC5AOPPc/IMG_5968_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="IMG_5968" width="244" /></a><br />
Thank you for always being there with your smile, I know it may seem I want to smack it off you but I secretly don’t. Remember I love you so much and you will always be my favorite (just don’t tell the others).<br />
<a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-RL_DBxKi_Pc/UieD7EXP2hI/AAAAAAAAINc/t8OdgTYAoeo/s1600-h/10-14044ADB-127285-800%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img alt="10-14044ADB-127285-800" border="0" height="122" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-gQbIibWWn5g/UieD7U7o-wI/AAAAAAAAINk/hATSHdpmt0Y/10-14044ADB-127285-800_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="10-14044ADB-127285-800" width="122" /></a><br />
Your princess mother,<br />
Mommy <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSg4WZs0UtuVijyEC50CfYMBl1ScbH8K5dJtW2TEmwA0vYpxXGHmY42Bx1wfbpVM8_veZsMWmGnxsHSzj7lxKkNtVpT5tZpTyaKtpNM9E-hFBCynRUzNucwDN7pu8VW9HX0T6YQaf8wgPA/s1600-h/clip_image001%25255B3%25255D.jpg"><img alt="clip_image001" border="0" height="242" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Z93IsIxXXiU/UieD8Sj6iJI/AAAAAAAAIN0/4S9dUHyCETk/clip_image001_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="clip_image001" width="244" /></a>AMER Ohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13902964833539399077noreply@blogger.com1