I Am The Warrior

Hey, y'all. She's baaaaccckkkk. And today, she's ANGRY.

OK, I don't want to confuse you. The "she" is me. But it's only partly me that's got me riled up.

Yes, today, I'm angry in part because my round 2 chemo is tomorrow, which comes with it its own set of fears, worries and risks which rob me of my carefree joy. It is, however, massively offset by being one step closer to the end of this breast cancer journey. And saying one final 🖕addio🖕 to this mother ffffff-fighter.  

But me aside. Today I'm angry because in the last month of my life I have been exposed to more stories of other vivacious, beautiful breast cancer warriors than should EVER be told. And it makes me steamin' mad.

One in particular is my good friend and former co-worker Paula who is, as I write, stepping into a TEN HOUR surgery to "celebrate" the end of her year-long chemo journey wherein she will get to have her insides ripped out then reconstructed all over again. Forgive the gruesome description but a) I didn't go to medical school, thus owe no one any bedside manner and b) this choice of words much better describes how it feels as a friend worrying about whether she'll be alright. In my heart, though, I know she will. She's SUCH a beast (that's a term of endearment, I swear).

Beyond my Paula, I'm just feeling angry today for all the ladies... like my girlfriends who've hit me up over the past few weeks either in tears because they're so deathly afraid of their first mammogram, in tears because they just discovered a lump, or in tears because they're being told their mammogram was irregular and more testing is required... and those are just the ones afraid of the unknown. 

Next come the ladies who are now on my speed dial. Ones I haven't. even. met. yet. And I only haven't because they are all women who've virtually befriended me from around my town since I "outted" myself on our Parents In The Know Facebook page. These ladies come with stories that range from the how-in-the-world-did-you-beat-that to the I'm-picking-up-praying-because-of-you. 

One that's hit closest to home is a local mother of four young ones, she herself slightly younger than me, just a beautiful girl. She reached out almost IMMEDIATELY after I let "the world" know I was sick and shared that she was right up inside her own very real and tangible hell. What's funny though is that, like most mothers, she always seems to be more concerned about ME! Hilarious. I mean, while I don't have all of her stats at the ready, what I can say is that I'm a flaming PHONY compared to this girl. As an example, on just the level of chemo alone, she has a game plan roughly SIX TIMES longer than mine. 😮  

She texted me the other day from her chemo chair. What ensued next paints the exact picture of the source of my intense anger and the warrior paint on my cheeks. 

This girl. This MOTHER. Who spent Mother's Day HURTING from Cancer. I mean, tired from being up all night breastfeeding? That kind of tired you almost welcome. But this kind? Pure. Evil. Cruelty. Then a hysterectomy to boot?!? And requiring a psychiatrist to pull her through?? This stuff just makes me want to lash out comic book bad guy style!!! NO WOMAN, NO ONE should have to go through this. Sometimes I think the only gift other mothers and I got in the game was that it was us and not our children having to fight. My heart just isn't even strong enough to let that thought pass through... and when I think about the future one in eight of all those precious little girls out there... I just explode from the inside out. 

So today I want to fight. Which is good given the battlefield I will be finding myself on tomorrow. But I WANT to fight, so it's good I've got a target as worthy of a solid $hit-kicking like Cancer on the opposing side. Just hate that he gets to so quietly slink away, the COWARD. I'd love instead to watch him suffer, spit blood, seize a little on the ground while I get one glorious final sword thrust straight through his heartless chest. Then I walk away head-held-high, armor glistening in the sunlight, blood on my hands... then go toast a tall one with all my warrior ladies while we mount his head to the wall. A girl can dream.