I’d like to start this blog off by being brutally honest.
I am 29. I am no gym junkie or vegan health food goddess. I live for tacos and tequila, and I’m incredibly stubborn.
Even though you won’t find me in a gym 7 days a week or counting calories, I consider myself relatively healthy. I stay too busy to bum on a couch every night, but I do enjoy my Bravo shows and after a long day, I will often opt for a night of Real Housewives (insert franchise) over an hour at the gym. Zero shame.
You also won’t catch me a doctors office unless something is about to fall off or the cold that I’ve put up with for a week will interfere with fun travel or event plans.
Now with that being said, that doesn’t mean that I’ve never trusted doctors, but I got really sick of them blaming everything on my ALLERGIES. Everything from my anxiety to heartburn was always looped back to allergies, so I stopped going to the doctor unless absolutely necessary.
Regardless of these details. On August 30, 2017 I was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer.
When I heard the words it really didn’t sink in… well, quite yet. More than anything, there was a certain level of relief because I had spent the week and a half prior getting the “yeah, looks like cancer, but we cannot say for sure”.
How does a healthy 29 year old get diagnosed with cancer?? I immediately started regretting all of the nights I spent live tweeting my Bravo shows over the gym, or indulging in happy hour queso.
Did I not eat well enough? Was I not active enough? Did this happen to me because I felt so strongly about not wanting kids, and this was my punishment? I won’t ever know.
But I know this. I’ve learned too many lessons in life to not make this another important one. I vowed (after I sobbed off and on for a few days) that I would use this “experience” to help others.
Hearing that you have cancer is scary enough, but what is also scary is how little you can find out about the things that make all of this a little easier. Well for me it was anyway.
So many of groups I found myself in, or articles, etc. almost made me feel guilty for wanting to do things like save my hair. I kept hearing the GOD AWFUL “it’ll grow back”… NO SHIT. I know that. But I haven’t spent 29 years of my life learning the perfect hair curl to have to wait another 5+ years to get it this length again.
I will be trying cold caps, I will continue to get my nails done, attempt to keep eyelash appointments, and anything else that kept me happy before this monster decided to dictate so much of my life, and I will blog about it in hopes that it can help someone else having to go through the hell that is chemo, too. There is NOTHING wrong with staying true to who you are, or doing the things that you love just because you got the cancer DX. Don’t let ANYONE make you feel like you are being selfish or shallow.
This sh*t is no “journey” (journeys are FUN) this is a battle, an annoying research project, a burden, a nightmare, a hassle, a horrible life disrupting disease and I am not taking any of it without a fight.