Rhetoric, not mere eloquence, I grasped for words with less euphemisms as explanation after years of endurance, more like a marathon testing my character. The ultimate race.
As you wonderful followers are aware, I have been busy writing my memoir, as part of this blog. The time has finally come to publish the book and beginning here. As with any huge project, worthy of your attention, while I am hopeful, there is always a stinkin’ catch in the fine print of the contract. Not to burst my bubble but my dear friends, the publisher may not be in favor.
Following the book’s format; due to its mb’s, not to bore anyone, I will post excerpts for you. A free download of my entire eBook, can be VIEWED and SHARED – please contact me.
First, is Tail of destruction.
I won’t be silent — my warrior awoke. To dream, even with a nightmare, is to cope with living pain. My nightmares were only out of my sleepy imagination – a slew of violence and battles — my sensitivity to pain medication. Deep anger inside, a public facade made difficult as muscles twitched in pain. DAMN monsters, and dramatic rock music conveyed my own raw emotions, raw language in winter, in ‘pain’ and battles rage.
WHO should read this? Every woman and teenager who WANTS TO KNOW about breast cancer and reconstruction. And any man who shares interest, or is a breast cancer patient. It is a worldwide disease — no one is exempt.
I emphasize: this is a woman’s memoir of mature content, for health awareness, and specifically how I coped with breast cancer. My images may be too gross for an immature teenager, the content too mature as well. An adult may intervene to answer questions and relate the facts of my uploads, references too complex for young comprehension. Realistic images for your ‘ref’, links and PDF’s are for accuracy. Many of the videos made me tremble, precariously close to my own state of mind. My breast surgeon interpreted many of the medical terms for me so I could at least get facts straight pertaining to me.
I don’t justify vulgarity for the sake of publicizing naked boobs images; simply demanded tru-life photos of after my breast cancer. Hence, I uploaded my own selfies. Real patients need real uncensored photos, real help. I set aside my self-consciousness for the sake of revealing those tru-life selfies (my links in the index, including my full nipple tattoos). ©woman in recon are my selfies pertaining to this content. The MPAA Movie Ratings would surely rate them R, but I promise they’re rated more F for “family” or M for “medical”. Mho … Some YouTube’s are considered taboo, too risqué, worth a view, however, are commonly taken down by the owner. Pertinent YouTube’s uploaded by individuals, I provided the link here as it was. Hopefully it exists for your benefit after the book’s publication. Fact is, many YouTube videos are very graphic, humorous as well (thru it all ya gotta laugh). Yeahp, as serious as this all is, I’d lose my mind if not for an occasional laugh.
The most time-consuming process is the symmetry. There came serendipitous hope as my body started to heal in Sunday diary and ‘Engulfed’. I held to my belief God heard tiny prayers I whispered every day to restore my life, womanhood, sanity, my strength and my motherhood. That’s how it works to get through it, to survive, and to regain passion for life. I prayed for compassion for others in the same boat. I had to rebuild my body. I put my whole self in God’s hands, boobs ‘n all. Not my booty but my boobs and my spirit. I wanted to laugh again.
Gettin’ down to brass tacks … The mammygram. Yeah, I play with words, love humor! You see, Ed’s the crazy guy who married a goofy red-head. And y’all, after breast reconstruction I HAD to get my sense of huumor back! Our grandkids say the dangdest stuff ‘n my dog is my cuddle-bug-bubbas ‘n the crazy man I’m married to all make me laugh.
Nobody talks so stiff-necked as we write in the first draft. I broke all the paragraphs down after I broke down. I was determined to enable other cancer patients to get the truest sense of my emotional self, my upheaval, my redemption and to reclaim my life after my mastectomy. The truth is, after nearly four years, I’m still regaining my womanhood — because that’s so much more than my breast being removed. I hope you’ll pardon the rawness, my selfies and my candor to share this experience to you.
Aside from the not-so-cheery stuff, my goal is to hopefully guide women through their own search ‘for the cure’ and give them hope for remission! I’m not a professional in the field except somewhat at life, at 61. This is about surviving — the rigors, the physical pain, the intense emotions, the doctors, and how it all affected my circle of people. I’d rather yak about outdoorsy stuff than be the survival of the fittest, this is survival of life stuff.
There came a time after that ‘cancer’ bomb was dropped when I got the revelation that was a real eye opener — I really must believe I will be more than a survivor. That my only outcome is to be healthy and cancer free into old age — to put breast cancer in the past. I’m not meaning to sound so perfect, so naively hopeful, so goody-goody that I can survive anything and all-that-line-of-crap. I have simply survived so far. I am blessed to beat it. That silver lining I would have criticized once, because I didn’t want to try to have false hope for fear I’d be disappointed, was really right in front of me. I opened my eyes with the solace of Christ in my life as I chose to gather strength from my faith. HIS promise and my husband’s love sustains me. I believe I’ve been blessed to thrive so y’all will truly grasp that you may outlive the disease, and keep a hold of real hope for your own recovery. I had to dig deep in my soul to get my life back!
If you just had a mastectomy and are scared, looking for answers, you will find at least a few answers here. There is no little niche for escape. Being vulnerable is gut wrenching and scary. Here, I share my experiences throughout my reconstruction and my utter despair — it’s how other breast cancer patients feel too. Nobody knows my pain except another cancer patient — it’s a heads-up for those fortunate not to deal with a mastectomy and reconstruction and women who’ve recently begun treatment. Many women do not recover. There are more deaths from metastasized breast cancer, but mine has not, therefore my story stops short of theirs and such imminent death.
Published on Dec 15, 2015:
Heather McFarland, who suffering from metastatic breast cancer died, featured in a News 3 story in October. Embedding the video has since been disabled due to family privacy.
Most of us are average Josephines: neighbors, the boss-lady, your daughter, and myself, and we accept that we don’t get special treatment for a miracle cure. But (a BIG but) every breast cancer patient is special and deserves the best possible help and guidance through it, as a unique woman. A breast cancer patient. A survivor. Yeah, I’m name-dropping and get on a soapbox a bit but, like Joyce Carol Oates says, “beginning a memoir is like having a dump truck pull up beside you and tip a couple tons of garbage on your head.”
What’s in my head isn’t garbage but sometimes it felt like it … All women with breast cancer feel screwwwed up.