Drink more water... its good for you

My gracious... it has been one HOT summer in Washington, DC this year. Note to the wise:  hot flashes do not stop in the summer. (laughs)  Of course since my treatment, I've been battling hot flashes and night sweats. And let me tell you... whew lawd... they are not FUN at all. I keep a fan going at all times. Without it, I am a moist mess (and not in a good way).

But I recently realized that I was slipping in one area and the change has been almost miraculous. What did I do?

DRINK MORE WATER.

Okay, I'll be honest... I have struggled most of my life with drinking enough water. I think I'm far from unusual in this regard. And even though I've read plenty of articles about drinking enough water -- and have heard many medical practitioners tell me the same -- I still struggle with drinking enough water. Madness, I tell you.

I started experiencing a few symptoms that led me to believe that I was slightly dehydrated. I remembered what happened in the past when I was dehydrated and I ended up in the hospital strapped to an IV -- so I did what I  needed to do.

DRINK MORE WATER.

Guess what happened after just a day or so?? Everything shifted back to my new normal. My constipation eased up. My perspiration resumed (a good thing when the temperatures are hovering around 90+) and the night leg cramps stopped immediately. My head stopped hurting. Even my skin started looking a bit better and less dry. I also started drinking Gatorade too and having a daily banana.  I figured that my potassium was a little low as well -- the leg cramps were a clear sign -- so rather than run to the doctor for another prescription and more pills, I decided to try the easy solution first. I'm happy that it helped.  My back pain and spasms eased up a bit too.

My gracious... water is a wonder.  I feel really great now.

Can I blog whine for a moment?

This post is a departure from all things breast cancer. I just have to get this off my chest though...

UUUGGGGHHHHH... sometimes blogging frustrates me.

Okay. Feeling a little better now. I've been writing this blog for a couple of years now. And for the most part, I enjoy it. I am frustrated pretty often but its not the kind of frustration that makes me want to quit. It is the frustration that you feel when you know there must be an answer to your question but you cannot find it. I get frustrated with all of the technical issues of blogging -- what template to use, how to find advertisers, how to drive traffic, topics, SEO, blah blah blah. All the stuff that makes the sharing of my thoughts just a smidge like work. I don't like that part so much. But, honestly speaking, I don't hate it. If I did, I would have ended this blog after my last surgery (or maybe even sooner than that).  

But today, my frustration and whining is about something really annoying. The plethora of bloggers in the universe who simply cannot write. I'm not talking about folks who write short posts -- about one or two paragraphs -- because being succinct is not a crime. In fact, it is the "preferred" method according to many blogging experts. *shrug*  You can see how often I do that. (...uh, that would be never for $100 Alex)

I am talking about people who -- like me -- take to the internet to spit their own thoughts about whatever strikes their fancy and along the way gather up followers and commenters like dog hair on a new sweater. That is the good part. Building community is usually a good thing. My problem is that their writing sucks. How do you follow someone on a medium that is based upon literacy... who writes as though they are, well... illiterate? That's like loving a singer who can't sing. (Oh, wait... I might be on to something now...)

I just read a very ridiculous statement on facebook. It was funny -- not particularly true but interesting nonetheless. The writer of the statement was so excited about the comments that she was receiving on facebook that she immediately decided to write a blog post about it. Since this person was someone I did not know and had not heard of, I traipsed over to her blog to read the expanded thoughts surrounding this particular quote.

GOOD GRAVY! I thought my head was going to explode. Utter garbage. Run on sentences. Incomplete thoughts. Pitiful punctuation. It was a nightmare. And honestly, she never supported her initial premise. It was a headache. I noticed that she had a string of comments following the post which completely baffled me. It seemed that other people understood her gibberish. And found something great in it, something worthy enough of commentary at least.

I was baffled. How does that work?

I am not the grammar police by any stretch of the imagination. If you've read this blog more than once, you're quite aware that I write in a very colloquial style. I write the way that I speak and sometimes I use incomplete sentences and such. But how does it work that someone can post the literary equivalent of a spam email -- with misspellings, poor grammar, etc. -- and have tons of people following them, commenting (showing love) and providing incentives for advertisers to pay to be there?

Help! I need feedback on this one... what draws you to certain bloggers? Am I being too harsh about this? (I've been known to do that from time to time)

Hair chronicles: Its time to dye again... what to do?

A couple of weeks ago, I took a plunge on the wild side and decided to dye my super-short hair red. It took a day or two for me to get used to the color but I like it. Well, I likeD it. Now, its looking more brown than truly red...and I know that I need to re-dye my hair.

And that presents a dilemma. Because I was a rebel the first time, but I don't intend to continue to be a rebel just to be vain. I used a dye that is typically found at beauty supply stores and convenience stores like CVS. I loved the color... especially after I had my hair cut. But, the chemicals used in this product simply are too harsh for me to use.

I suppose that I will need to jump into the land of henna dye and pray that I can get results that I like as much. I never was much of a dyed hair kind of girl before... but I need a kick to my look and this was a great move.

Compromised, delicate skin and hair... what you're left with after chemotherapy and radiation treatments for cancer... requires treatment that doesn't irritate it, and doesn't put more potential toxins in your body (remember that the skin is the body's largest organ). My girls recommended a brand of natural hair color to try. But I couldn't find any in a color I prefered when I was looking for color the other week. I will start searching to see if I can find something that works for me.

I've gotten used to this sassy new me and I'm not ready to give it up just yet.

Sometimes, late at night... I cry

Yes, sometimes I cry. I'm not always the smiley-faced survivor. 

This looks like just the book I need.
Click here if you need it too!

Tonight is one of those nights where the sadness is simply smothering me. I connected with someone online and found out that he was a medical oncologist who is working with cancer patients to help them connect more with their spirit. And as soon as I read about his background and his business, I burst into tears. This disease... is everywhere. And it's killing people. Not in a figurative manner, I mean seriously... people are dying every day from this stupid disease.

So... I'm crying and I'm scared and I'm just frustrated. So much going on around me and inside of my head. My heart just can't keep up.

Cancer is an awful, awful disease. The treatment is horrible and hard. And the financial costs feel like they are choking the life from my future. Even as I live and build a new life... the bills and debts keep coming, keep piling on and I'm getting tired. This stupid disease has been a wrecking ball in my life and I just want some peace.

I know that this sad feeling won't last. And I am accepting the blessing of treatment that saved my life and millions of other people. But some days -- some nights -- the tears simply won't stop falling. Tonight is one of those nights for me.

Tomorrow, I pray, that I will be in better spirits and more upbeat and happy. If not... tell me a knock, knock joke to make me smile.

Pretty please.

Dating chronicles: It is not getting better on the dating scene

Happy Valentine's Day!! Okay... so what that its just a few days past Independence Day (July 4th) and I'm a bit out of order to be thinking about Valentine's day... Bear with me for a second.  I came across an article today about how to get through Valentine's Day when you're single (and don't want to be). I know you're wondering who thinks about V-day in July? That would be me...

The article was nice, a little cheesy I suppose but then Valentine's Day is cheesy. And honestly speaking, the cheese factor is what makes that day and that time of year so extra exciting for me. Reading that article today though made me sniggle at myself because lately I've been on a roll of pretty pitiful dates.

Let's start with the guy that I've known for years.  We've actually gone out a few times on some pretty cool platonic dates. I wouldn't exactly call us close friends but we're more than acquaintances -- I mean, we've known each other for quite a few years. It is wearing me out that this friend will get one date right and we will have a fantastic time... and then every other date wrong. And by wrong I mean, stuff like... he'll ask me out on a date and then have no idea what he wants to do, where he wants to go or even if he's got the time. But he wants to go out. And he thinks he wants to go out with me. But he's not sure. So while he's making up his mind... he wants me to be on hold until he makes a decision. Or not. Or, he'll ask me my availability for a date and then when I say that I am available, he'll say... oh cool. Let's get together. And then I won't talk to him again for a month or so. (gas face) Or, he'll ask me on a date, actually have concrete plans to do something specific... and then he will stand me up. Sometimes he'll say he fell asleep. Other times, he got sick. And so on. Repeatedly. The excuses are always different but the end result is the same. I was asked on a date. And then the date falls through at the last minute.

(nervous laugh)  That's pretty normal, right? Everybody accepts dates with people who have known them for years but who then end up standing them up?  Isn't it common for someone you're not dating to pick a fight with you at very inopportune times.  Even after you remind them that you're not a couple AND the last few times that you were supposed to get together, he was the one who had a problem making it happen? Fights that make little sense considering that we aren't even dating... (you have to actually go ON the date in order to consider yourself, ya know... dating)

That doesn't happen solely to the smiley-faced breast cancer girl? Right? No? Sigh. Dang. Being stood up is one of the most pathetic feelings in the world. However, I recently had the joy of experiencing the absolutely most miserable feeling in the world (on a date) and that is...

Being left at a gas station late at night, at the end of the date. 

Sigh... I'm too embarrassed to even share the details of that fiasco. Long story short, I went to get a slurpee at the 7-11 next door, and he thought I teleported home... So, he took off. In the middle of the night. Leaving me stranded at a suburban gas station. And my cellphone was dead. And my charger was at home. So, I couldn't call him and scream at him to come back for me. And of course in this age of smartphones, I did not have his number memorized at all. Basically, I was short. Luckily, the clerks at the store took pity on me and called me a cab. But sheesh... how many other breast cancer survivor babes do YOU know who get treated so well by guys who dig her? (laughs)

There has to be an award for this sort of foolishness. Only Nicole has experiences like this. And only Nicole is still so giddy about love that she can read an article about how to maneuver through another "I'm still single" Valentine's Day in the middle of July... and smile. Despite her current track record of bad dates.

The guys aren't bad guys. Not at all. I just don't think that its been a good connection.  In all truth, maybe its me. Its highly possible that I'm just not a fun date these days. I have a lot on my mind and quite possibly, the thought of spending hours of time with me just might be more than some folks can bare. (laughs)  I really don't know.  I would say that I'm going to keep trying, keep accepting dates. But I know that's not the truth. Half of the year is gone and as you've seen, I haven't been doing so well when it comes to dating. So, I think that taking a mental time-out and focusing on other things might be the best course of action. Because if the next dude leaves me stranded, or falls asleep and forgets that he asked me out on a date... I just might get a little Lorena Bobbitt-ish on folks.

And that's not cool. (laughs) At least at this point... I'm not getting hit on by other people's husbands. And that is something to be excited about. Baby steps.

If I knew then what I know now

Nic at 30... oh the things I could tell that girl now

This is one of my favorite pictures. It was taken on my 30th birthday. My friends and I had an awesome time that night. Feeling grown up and sassy... we danced the entire night away.

My best friend shared this picture with me the other day -- I had not seen it in years -- and I found myself really drawn to the look in my eyes. (In case you didn't know, that's me in the middle) I remember feeling like I had finally arrived as an adult when I reached 30.

I'll tell you one thing though, I am surprised that I look pretty much the same after all these years. Well, the boobies are different and there are a few scars on my chest now that I didn't have before but mostly, I look the same. And I find that fascinating because I feel so "old" now. What I remember the most about this time in my life is that I was so worried about getting it right.

I felt so wrong about everything in my life. *smh* Too much worry, too little joy... 

I felt that I was failing at life then. No matter what I did, I wanted to do it bigger, better, faster... I was really disappointed with myself. And sometimes (far more often than I'd like to admit) I still feel that way. Looking at this picture, I started thinking... what if I knew on that night, that about a decade later I would be diagnosed with breast cancer? That I would have to face the difficult task of electing to have a mastectomy, and going through chemotherapy... Would I have been a little more kind to myself? Would I have been more proactive with my health? Running and exercising a bit more, partying a bit less?

I don't really recognize that girl anymore

The interesting thing is that when I look at that picture, I see me but I don't really recognize myself. I am so vastly different inside and out now. In this picture, there is a sadness in my eyes that I just want to hug away because I had nothing to be sad about then. Just like I have nothing to be sad about now. Yes, I am a survivor and some days that feels like a huge weight. But the truth is that I am blessed.

If I could talk to my 30-year old self, I would tell her to relax a little. Take more walks. Breathe deeply. Try something new every week. Allow somebody to love you ... even if he's not perfect or doesn't match the vision in your head. And most importantly, check your breasts regularly. Yes, I really would tell myself to "feel on your boobies" because it is very important.

I really did have FABULOUS BOOBIES at 30...

Back then, I felt that I had "Fabulous Boobies"... but I took them for granted. I didn't recognize that they were more than an accessory to be showcased. I was haphazard with my self-exams... like a lot of young women. Breast cancer is primarily a disease that happens to older women, so even though we may know that it is important we slack off. But I'm a witness that 3 minutes with your boobies, once a month makes a difference. Especially if you're a young woman of color. It matters.

What I didn't know at 30

• What I didn't know at 30 is that women in their 20's and in their 30's do get breast cancer. No one ever told me that. 
• What I didn't know is that when young women have breast cancer, they are more likely to die from it. 
• What I didn't know is that breast cancer in young women is far more aggressive and difficult to treat than it is in older women. 
• What I didn't know is that regular breast self-exams and a few lifestyle changes can actually make a difference. 
• What I didn't know is that although young black women do not get breast cancer at the same rates as white women... when we do get breast cancer, it is more likely to kill us. It is more likely to be found very late stage. And the type of cancer that we tend to get is the most difficult to treat. 

I didn't know that at 30. But I learned it when I was diagnosed with breast cancer at 39.

Now at 42, I am cancer free and happy about it. My life is drastically different and if I knew then that my life would be like this now, I probably would have broken down in tears. Because then I thought that it was the "things" in life that made life worthwhile. The right job, the right title, the right friends, the right lifestyle, the right boyfriend... etc. And now I know that its the things like... good friends, laughter, family and the ability to follow your dreams that make life worthwhile.

I never planned to have breast cancer. For all of the ways that this disease has changed my life in negative ways, it did one great thing. It showed me that I was far stronger and more capable than I ever imagined. And that all the happiness I was searching for out there... was never there at all. Its with me right now. See that smile? And that chick is a breast cancer survivor. :) 

Pink ribbon girls rock!

Know your body. Learn your body. Trust yourself. And show yourself some kindness...