My Left Tata

I went for a quick run last night and didn’t think twice before throwing on one of my old front zip sports bras. Apparently it’s time for a new sports bra… I was a half mile into the run when I felt a draft and realized my bra had come completely unzipped and was flapping in the breeze. Yes I had a shirt on over it but it was a thin, white running shirt. To the amusement of the woman mowing her lawn, I attempted to re-zip the bra while still running and without flashing the neighborhood. Success – I continued running. But maybe it’s time for new sports bras that fit my new cup size.

Drum Roll please….

I went bra shopping with Laura in Chicago this past week. I had a gift certificate for one of the fancy shops where they don’t use tape measures but rather “eye” you and then bring in the bras which you try on until you find perfect fits. Imagine our surprise when the woman took a look at me and announced “34 D”. Laura and I looked at each other, mouths agape and I asked “did she say B or D”?

Fashion marketing at it’s best. I can pay $40 for a shitty, inadequate bra at Victoria’s secret OR I can pay between $75 and $125 for a designer bra that is fitted to me AND just happens to be a full cup size bigger than the cheaper bra. hmmmmm…. vanity sizing perhaps?

I should be immune to these marketing ploys. I’m in the business! It must have been the matching panties all hanging nicely in a row that started to open my wallet. The clerk announcing that you just “pluck the panties like fruit” put me over the edge. I made an investment!

I played a little volleyball with the girls yesterday and the foobs seemed to behave even though I wore an old bathing suit top that may be a bit too small now! Maybe this new cleavage will be my secret weapon on the court as everyone finds their eyes strangely drawn to the foobs… after all this how can everyone not check them out? Hey – I’m short and old. I’ll use whatever assets I have to get a point or two!

I tried to do a post for each day but too busy doing things to write about them (a sign of a great vacation in my book). So here’s a summary of some of the things that occurred and my deep thoughts about them:

RE: Bugs

• Three mature, grown women in a cockroach-infested hotel room can turn into shrieking teenagers very quickly
• You can kill a cockroach with an unopened panty liner (but I wouldn’t recommend it)
• You can hysterically dial the hotel manager asking for a new room (and you’ll get one at a very nice discount too) but you don’t need to tell him about using a panty liner as your weapon of choice.  This tends to detract from the gravity of the situation!
• Shaking out every single item of clothing you own at midnight with a slight buzz is no fun but extremely necessary if you intend to sleep later that night

RE: Waterfalls

• The first turn into the historically quiet parking area for Manoa Falls had me humming Joni Mitchells “Big yellow Taxi Cab”.  A paved parking lot with a fee? OMG – And a guy selling walking sticks (yes Bill, shillelaghs) and mosquito repellant?  AS IF!
• The old me would have paid attention to the “do not go beyond these wires” sign.  The new me saw that the waterfall was blocked off and said “What? I’ve been coming to these falls for years and I’m not stopping here now!”
• The bathing suit poses in front of the waterfall were totally worth breaking the law

 RE: Going out on the town

• When you’re 24 years old you really don’t notice things about a place like you do when you’re 38.  I remember Waikiki as a tourist heaven, glistening sidewalks and roads, beautiful beaches and hotels.  It’s actually kind of faded and seedy and to quote Dani “The 70’s called… they want their hotels back”. 
• And where did all those prostititues come from?  I totally don’t remember that even though my friends that live there claim it’s actually BETTER now than it was.  Ah the eyes of youth… we only see what we want to see!
• Staying up for 23 straight hours is something you do before your 35th birthday unless you don’t mind being a walking zombie the next day and experiencing a “bitch attack” on the beach
• The cougar phenomenon is alive and well in Waikiki.  Why is it that 24 year old men suddenly find it necessary to talk to me and buy me drinks?  Why didn’t this happen when I was 24?  I am going to attribute it to the new cleavage!
• Karaoke – there’s a ratio between amount of alcohol consumed and skill level and it’s not directly correlated… it’s somewhat of a curve.  At the start of the night… there was “no way in hell” I was getting up on stage, especially to do Mindy’s song of choice (Shoop – by Salt & Pepa).  By the middle of the evening we found ourselves on stage with aforementioned 24-year old, “singing” ACDC’s “you shook me all night long”.  Near the end of the evening an older Hawaiian gentleman, known only as “Uncle Ron” to the crowd, was up on the mic again.  Suddenly I felt compelled to yell “He needs back-up dancers!” and grabbed Mindy’s hand to run up on stage.  The crowd went wild and Uncle Ron had no idea we were behind him.  I’m certain that no one in that audience will think of “Swing Low Sweet Chariot” in the same way ever again.  From that moment on, Mindy and I became known as “The Ronnettes”. 
• I can still go low, low, low on the dance floor.    Must be muscle memory!
• The night can be considered a complete success if, upon arriving to your hotel at 4 AM, someone finds a $5 bill in their bra and has no idea how it got there. 

RE: Old Friends

• Sometimes a “bitch attack” is the best thing for a friendship.  When you take 3 women, lots of adrenaline, little sleep and a foreign place and go, go, go… it’s bound to happen.  Finding out what your friends want to do / not do and what they really think can be eye opening.  Sitting on a beach and crying for a bit can be totally theraputic and bring friends closer than ever. 
• In case you don’t know the term, a “bitch attack” is when someone suddenly goes completely sideways and out of character over something that totally shocks everyone else. I’ve seen it happen in high stress situations and/or when my friend Laura doesn’t get enough to eat during a long bike ride.  It’s a blow out that makes everyone feel better later, as long as they are able to laugh about it at some point.
• Old friends are the best!  Special mahalo to Alfredo, Joy, Sharon, Angie, Parker, Lori and Flash for making me feel right at home again.  And thanks to Dani and Mindy for being brave and adventurous and crazy enough to go to 2 islands for 9 days with 6 boobs and only 1 bathroom!

RE: Life

I think I got some of my moves back!

For those of you expecting to read about cancer… sorry!  I’m only a few days into my vacation, the trip I took to get my “moves” back and I want to write about other things.  Exciting, fun (and funny) things and not just about dealing with cancer.  You don’t have to read anymore if you don’t want to.  This is my blog and my therapy and I’m finding that I like to write. 

Maybe though this really is about cancer and about the healing process.  This is what I needed to feel like me again.  I wonder how others that have gone through this heal their hearts and souls once their bodies are deemed “healthy” again?  

Instead of sleeping in (again) we got up early to head toward Princeville to zipline over the canopy.  Yep – helmets required!  None of us had ever done this before and we all were a bit nervous.  I think the first leap off the platform is the hardest but once your feet leave the ground it’s a total rush.   The guides explained that by turning the straps one way or the other you could control the direction you were facing.  I asked if I had time on a run to look both up to the mountains, get a photo, spin and get one of the ocean view.  The guy looked at me and said “You have to be pretty good to do that”.  Once again I got to say “Is that a challenge”?

The final run of the day was “king kong”, a dual, extra long zipline.  Dani and I got to go together.  The only weird thing about this one was that you had to climb up a large platform and then jump off the end.  I had been getting used to running off the edge which is somehow easier than looking down over the edge and just jumping!  I tried to make a movie and succeeded, I just didn’t know how to stop recording.   Unfortunately the file is too big to post to the blog.  Bummer.

We were all pretty tired after the adrenaline rush and went back to change into our suits before heading to “secret beach”.  Mindy’s mom’s yoga instructor found an amazing little spot in the back of a neighborhood where you can park and get between some enormous houses to a beautiful, protected, little beach area.  I spent at least a full half hour relaxing there!    I wandered up and down the beach, making stacks out of the coral and rocks.

Beach yoga started at 3 and we almost completed it before getting doused by a pop up squall.  Women and yoga mats scattered everywhere.   It was probably a good wake up call as the session was so relaxing and peaceful I was in dreamland.  Imagine the warm sun, toes digging in the sand, deep relaxing breathing exercises and the sound of the surf hitting the shore.  If I could do beach yoga everyday I would be the most balanced and calm person… I might even let dirty dishes sit in the sink for more than an hour.  

We finished the day with dinner with friends.  What could be better than catching up with Aaron, Allie and Jameson over one of Aaron’s amazing home made meals?  Being around them brought back so many memories of such a carefree time.  A time when my biggest worry was getting to the beach to secure a spot for the net before it got too crowded.  It felt so good to shake off the past few months and just talk, eat and laugh.  Mahalo friends for always making me feel so welcome and comfortable!  Next time I may not leave!

There is an amazing Hindu Monastery on Kauai and once a month they do guided tours.  Mindy’s mother goes there often and highly recommended it so off we went.  Two Catholics and a Protestant enter a Hindu Monastery…  this is not the beginning of a joke.  This is reality.   Of course, Mindy had said it was a Buddhist Monastery which confused me for the first 15 minutes of the tour until I caught on.  The statue of Ganesha was my first clue.  I may not know much about eastern religions but I know Buddha was not an elephant!

After rain shower one, we made our way back into the most breath-taking gardens I’ve ever seen and followed a path to the temple that is being slowly built by hand by the monks.  While the guide was describing the work I noticed a path around a pond area and went to walk it by myself.  Rain shower two hit really hard so I hurried back.  I couldn’t find the group and figured they had run back toward the entrance to find shelter.  No such luck… but I did find a small temple and went inside to sit and meditate.

I heard a light chanting and opened my eyes to see a small, older man in an orange robe, walking around the room with bells, chanting in the various corners.  I have no idea what he was saying or doing but for some reason the biggest wave of loss hit me.  It came on so fast but instead of my usual stiff upper lip approach, I just let it come and the tears ran down my face, dripping into my new cleavage.  

I’m not sure how long I was there when I felt a presence on my left and on my right.  I reached over and took Mindy’s hand on one side and Dani’s on the other and the tears just kept coming. And then they were gone.  I stood up, walked out, wiped my face and smiled.  It was time for lunch and an afternoon at the pool with Mindy’s mom.

We promised Mom (I’m her favorite daughter actually) that we would do water aerobics with her at the spa.  Everyone got in the pool except for Mindy (smart girl).  The usual instructor is a woman and the music is broadway tunes.  We didn’t get the usual instructor, we got Richard the General. 

I found myself in a pool with a bunch of women with an average age of 65 (and that’s with me and Dani bringing it down).  Then out walks the General, a fit, barrel-chested, bald, older man who promptly puts on a red, white and blue patriotic cap and jumps in the pool.  “C’mon ladies let’s go” he roars and proceeds to press play on the boom box.  So, to the sweet sounds of military marches he proceeds to lead us through water aerobics yelling “Give it your all!  Reach! No commie short ones!”  What is a “commie short one” exactly?  I could not look Dani in the eye for fear of laughing and getting thrown in the brig!

Did you know you can put a baby chicken to sleep if you flip him on his back in your palm and shade his eyes with your other hand?  Our first lesson on day three of the Survivor Girls’ vacation (A.K.A. “3 women, 6 foobs, 9 days and 2 islands”). My friend Aaron is a lifeguard at Poipu Beach so we went to visit him and hang out in the morning.  He was the ultimate host!  He provided chairs, an umbrella and a new fun fact by introducing us to a stray baby chicken that has adopted him.

While relaxing I got a text from another group of friends that were skiing in Breck (PWDS).  They sent me pictures of the powder and the fun they were having… so Aaron and I schemed on how to top them. Imagine me and my foobs in the arms of four lifeguards at the top of the guard station.  I have photo evidence! 

It’s been about six years since I’ve seen Aaron yet it felt like no time had passed.  We sat on the beach and talked about life, good books, family and friends while a huge sea turtle beached himself and a monk seal rested in the sun.  I felt a slight glimmer of me, pre-cancer me, starting to poke through again.  The Jen that can just hang and talk and enjoy life.

We only allowed ourselves a few hours of sitting as there was an adventure to be had.  We booked a bike ride trip down Waimea Canyon.  This is not a particularly dangerous trip but it did require helmets and we were traveling with Dani “My Dad took my bike away when I was little because I crashed it so many times”.  She had mostly recovered from the flight and paddle boarding the day before until we jumped into a large van and drove up a very winding, steep road for almost an hour.  She was white-knuckled and a little green around the gills before we even got on the bikes!

The trip down was amazing.  We went very slowly (brake one thousand, coast one thousand, brake one thousand, etc.) and took frequent breaks for photos and snacks. Finally, near the end, the guide told us if we wanted to go fast we should move to the front of the group.  Now I’m not usually the big thrill-seeker but this seemed like a great idea.  I got directly behind the guide and she issued a direct challenge (at least that’s how I read it).  “No one has ever passed me before.”  She takes off and I’m quick to follow.  I did not touch my brakes the rest of the way down the mountain.

The wind was whipping and the scenery was flying by as I leaned into it to try to catch her. Curves, a few small bumps, straight drop offs to the left and right should I go off the road and I didn’t care.  I was SO alive that I started giggling and just couldn’t stop.  I may have even “hooted” at one point.  I couldn’t catch her no matter how hard I tried.  I later learned that we were going about 50 MPH. 

Dani will never do it again but she did not crash.  Mindy liked it but didn’t love it.  I learned something new about myself… there’s an adrenaline junkie somewhere inside me that must’ve been in hibernation.  Maybe it had a plug in it before and they accidentally removed it during surgery?  I’ll have to ask at my next follow-up appointment.  The one where the plastic surgeon looks at my foobs and asks what in the world I’ve been doing to these poor things.

Our first full day in Hawaii and we made full use of it.  After waking up at 4 AM and then snoozing a little until 6, we got up and had breakfast on the North Shore of Oahu.  We went from there to the airport to catch a plane to Kauai.  After quickly getting unpacked we changed into suits and went to Kalapaki Bay where we heard the surf was the smallest… yeah.. more about that later.

For just a slight upgrade we opted for the gray mustang convertible (such tourists!).  It was worth it to just feel the wind and sun after a long winter and went straight to the surf shop to rent our paddle board.  Imagine a very large, wide surfboard that you stand on with a long canoe paddle.  I’ve done this once before, in Jacksonville, on the nearly still intercoastal waterway. So no problem right?  Mindy went out first and did well, falling off just once.  Then it was my turn.

My goal was to stay to the left side in the smaller waves and try to catch a few slow rollers in.  Well somehow I got into the mix of locals and hopped onto one small roller and then another.  No problem!  When suddenly I heard a noise behind me, kind of like a train, and turned to see the Mother of all waves coming up behind me and it’s just about to crest.  It was taller than me!  As the white water smashed into my board, sending it hurtling forward at mach-20, the nose of my board buries itself under water shooting me straight out over it.  Imagine a seesaw and what happens when the person on the far end slams down on the ground… the person on top can almost fly off the seat.  Well I learned a new term today thanks to the locals who witnessed my amazing flying feat.   “You Pearled it!” 

I looked up the definition for everyone:  “Pearl – A common surf term describing when a person buries the nose of their surfboard and goes “over the falls”. Often referred to by the actual surfer as @#%%@#@!!”  I got out “Oh shit” before hitting the water and then ducking under my board as it went flying over my head.  Then the Sister of the Mother of all waves comes along, grabs the board, which is attached to my ankle and drags me under water for a few miles.  I finally surfaced and a local guy looks at me and says “whoa… you ok?”. 

After I assured him I was fine (but not very smart) I did what any stubborn jock would do.  I paddled back out.  I came up on the local guy and told him it was my first time paddleboarding the ocean.  He shook his head, laughed a bit and said “Well… at least you look good doing it”.  (thanks foobs!)

I paddled back in to the laughter of Dani and Mindy and then it was Dani’s turn.  For never doing it before she did quite well and actually got up a few times.  I swam out to her and we tried to both get on the board together.  And we both have bruises to show why this is not a good idea.  Then Mindy and I tried it and actually got up together on the paddleboard.  We were laughing so hard that when we fell we both got water up our noses (it’s leaking out still as I type).  Another guy paddles by and he’s just laughing at us.  I told him we were working on a new sport called doubles’ paddleboarding and that if he waited he’d see me do a handstand on the front.  He just shook his head and got the heck away from us!

So a glass of wine and some food later and we’re all whipped.  My plastic surgeon would probably have a fit if he saw what I did today… just wait until tomorrow.    The foobs were a little tight while swimming but didn’t seem to mind “pearling” it as much as the rest of my body. 

Score for the day:

• Laugh factor – 9
• Rest factor – 0
• Bruises (group count) – 4
• Healing factor – 6

Aloha!

Well I’m one hour closer to Hawaii, sitting in the delta club room in lovely Minneapolis, thinking about what I’m going to find on this trip.  Dani is an hour behind me on another flight.  Mindy is already in Kauai.  I’ve already named the movie they’ll make about our trip some day:  “The Survivors – Three women, six foobs, two islands, nine days”.  I’ve left out the number of drinks that will be consumed. 

I know I’ll have fun but I also hope to find peace and time to contemplate and really heal.  All of this has happened so fast and I’ve returned to work and normal life so quickly that I can almost pretend it didn’t happen to me.  I had my final surgery just over three weeks ago and actually won an arm wrestling contest last night (against a left-handed person no less! Sorry Heather!).  Was I really ever “sick”?

At the party last night, when I wasn’t proving my strength and abnormally high levels of testosterone, I talked to other moms about our kids.  One of the moms has a daughter who really likes Gavin and has told her mother repeatedly that she is going to marry him.  When I went down to the kid room to check on him we had a second to chat.  I told him that Keala really liked him and he said “I know.  She saw my moves”.  !!!  What?  Come to find out later he was talking about video game kicks and moves and had no idea what I meant when I said she liked him.    My 5-year old thinks he has moves! 

My point?  I do kind of have a point.  I want to get my “moves” back.  Not in a flirting, dating sense (don’t freak out Brian!) but in an overall Jen-sense.   That old confidence that tells me I can and will pick up that racquet/ball/phone call/book/project/task/job/child/etc and I won’t fumble it or fail.   I’m a little shaky these days.  I might forget a date or tip over when I stand up too quickly.  I’m not sure I can pick up the ball and throw it like Favre… I may not get a perfect spiral. 

Hawaii for me initially was a huge leap of faith and a test of my own confidence and strength.  I moved there unexpectdedly after college when I decided not to come home from vacation.  With $500 and two suitcases I took on the island and figured out a little bit more about myself.   I met a guy that knew a girl that knew a girl that needed a room mate.  We talked on the phone and she agreed to let me live with her – for $450 a month (do the math!).  That was Mindy… and here we are almost 15 years later!   Instead of a 23 year old with $50 in her pocket, I’m a 38 year old with silicone. 

This time I won’t have to date for food or sleep on the floor with only a couch pillow and beach towel as a bed.  But I find strength in the fact that I did that.  I feel like I conquered something huge when I finally returned to Michigan 2 years later.  I think that’s the feeling I hope to return with again.  I’ll spend a week with my memories and visit old friends.  The ocean, the mountains, the waterfalls and sunsets … All-powerful Jen returns!  

Maybe not “all powerful” but certainly “improved”. 

About a week and a half after surgery I went on a business trip to CT and NY.  I know I’m supposed to be wearing sports bras for about a month to compress the new foobs, but I didn’t want to look like a redneck from Michigan in my hip East Coast meetings so I wore a real bra.  My first bra since September!  I was a little sore after day one but feeling pretty confident about my new look so I wore a bra and fitted sweater on day 2.  All was well until later that evening… 

Imagine me in a trendy restaurant in Manhattan, sitting across from the VP of Marketing for a fairly large company, talking about our strategic road map and overall partnership when suddenly my right pectoral muscle “fires”.  This causes my right foob to jump up onto my shoulder for a second and then sit back down.   To his credit, he did not flinch.  I haven’t told him about the cancer but maybe he noticed the size difference and with the amazing boob acrobatics, assumes I had a job recently.  I had another glass of wine and leaned forward on my elbows for the rest of the evening!

It’s been over 2 weeks since the reconstruction and I’m losing patience.  I’m still wearing ugly sports bras and have random spasms.  I tried to run yesterday and only made it about a mile.  I’ve never had anything that bounces like that!  I want the pain gone and I want to start living like me again… doing extreme stuff and loving it.  I will be playing volleyball in Hawaii next week – no matter what! 

After my return from NY I picked Gavin up from school.  He sounded horrible and we ended up in the ER around 8:30 that night for breathing treatments, steroids, a chest x-ray and exams from various doctors, nurses and technicians.  After one particularly nasty tasting medicine, he was given a Popsicle.  As midnight approached we were finally getting to a point where he was breathing easy and we could possibly go home.  We’re cuddling in the hospital bed and he looks up at me and says in a very serious voice “Mom.  That Popsicle saved my life!”  I said “really?  You don’t think it was the medicine or doctors?” And he says “no.  Without it I would have died!”

Maybe if someone just gave me a Popsicle I’d feel better too.

My week of recovery and reflection is almost over.  I’ve started working again, I’m off the drugs and planning to make a cheese ball for a gathering on Sunday.  Shouldn’t there be something else?  A blinding moment of clarity?  The “aha” moment that changes my life path forever?

This is just like the movie endings I hate…

• the one where the couple that’s been kept apart finally realizes they love each other and share that sickly sweet smile and move in for the kiss (screen fades out),
• or where the house might still be haunted even though the creepy exorcist lady announces “my work here is done” (TV flickers on),
• or the tough chicks that learn all about life and find themselves (and Brad Pitt’s abs) suddenly drive their convertible off the cliff (we don’t even get to see the crash).  

All of these things make me ask “WHAT NEXT”?!   Things just end in the movies and they don’t in real life. 

I have new, perky breasts and I’m cancer free but where is my battle? Now that I know cancer won’t be killing me anytime soon, can I still live each day as if it were my last, prioritizing the things that really matter the most?  What is going to keep me grounded and centered so I never forget that it’s OK to let the floor get dirty, let produce go bad in the fridge, run out of dish soap, forget a friend’s birthday, or leave the bed unmade (actually that never happens regardless – I could lose a limb and still insist on making the bed).  What will remind me to patiently sit by Gavin, stroking his hair until he falls asleep even though a thousand “to dos” are running through my head?  Or to just appreciate the lakes, the sunshine, the flowers, my friends, Brian’s blue eyes, and Julia’s freckles? 

“She said she usually cried at least once each day not because she was sad, but because the world was so beautiful and life was so short” – “Bittersweet” by Brian Andreas (www.storypeople.com)

So here is my plan.  You are all my accountability partners.  If we find ourselves taking things that really don’t matter too seriously we have to call each other out.  I think we need a mantra.  This is work in progress so feel free to jump in with comments.

“Breathe.  This too shall pass.  What will I do today that really matters?”

Love and saline -