Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Time to shop!
I got a notice in the mail today; it said, "Our records indicate that you are due for bras." My response? Yay!! Most girls can go shopping for bras whenever they like. I can too, really (if I shop online or drive an hour to the one specialty store in my area.) However, due to my mastectomy, once a year my insurance will pay for them! hooray! My choices are limited, of course, but they are getting better. I won't find any fun prints and the colors are pretty basic, but at least a few of them have lace now. Last year I even got one that was blue! Ah, the life of a breast cancer survivor. The best part? This may be the LAST time I need to get mastectomy-wear. Next year, I plan on having re-construction. Then we ladies can all go shopping together! Yippee!!! (Wait, that might be wierd. Gonna have to think about that one.) Anyway, rejoice! It's time to shop!
Monday, February 6, 2012
Survivor Guilt
It's been a long time since I've had survivor guilt. Let me tell you, I didn't miss it.
Last night was the Superbowl between the Giants and Patriots. I was rooting for the Pats, of course, partly because I lived in New England for so long, partly because my dad trained me to root against any team based in New York City (or New Jersey,) and partly because I knew they had dedicated the season to Mrs. Kraft.
Were you wondering what those MHK patches were for? Yeah, they were for her. How awesome would it have been for the Kraft family to be able to say, "We are the champs, and we did it for Myra."
Losing the game was hard, but thinking about the person they had played it for was even harder. Why did she have to die when I lived? Do a search. Her list of charitable contributions and causes are much longer than mine. The players loved her. Surely she was much more valuable to society than I will ever be. And yet, here I am, and she is gone.
Cancer is an indiscriminate (insert derogatory term here.) I hate it. I hate that it kills so many. Even those that survive its grasp are scarred forever. I hate that it takes away children and parents and grandparents and friends. I hate that the treatments are often worse than the dissease. I just hate it.
So here I sit. I'm grateful to be alive, and at the same time, feel terribly guilty about it. Who knew that surviving would be so hard?
Last night was the Superbowl between the Giants and Patriots. I was rooting for the Pats, of course, partly because I lived in New England for so long, partly because my dad trained me to root against any team based in New York City (or New Jersey,) and partly because I knew they had dedicated the season to Mrs. Kraft.
Were you wondering what those MHK patches were for? Yeah, they were for her. How awesome would it have been for the Kraft family to be able to say, "We are the champs, and we did it for Myra."
Losing the game was hard, but thinking about the person they had played it for was even harder. Why did she have to die when I lived? Do a search. Her list of charitable contributions and causes are much longer than mine. The players loved her. Surely she was much more valuable to society than I will ever be. And yet, here I am, and she is gone.
Cancer is an indiscriminate (insert derogatory term here.) I hate it. I hate that it kills so many. Even those that survive its grasp are scarred forever. I hate that it takes away children and parents and grandparents and friends. I hate that the treatments are often worse than the dissease. I just hate it.
So here I sit. I'm grateful to be alive, and at the same time, feel terribly guilty about it. Who knew that surviving would be so hard?
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