Well, here's a gorgeous Saturday, a sunshine-filled rodeo day and yet my world is clouded by my recurring "it's a crap shoot" thought: 86% chance of survival over five years.
Sometimes I get hung up on this and, rational or irrational, the thought stays put. It's a counter-productive, energy sapping mood swinging thought that still has too much power in my life.
Somehow, I've got to beat that thought.
Sometimes the post-breast cancer pressure to be happy is overwhelming. Most of the pressure is self-created, partially due to that 86% survival thing.
Maybe it's the Tamoxifen, that jagged little pill I take every day to ward off a recurrence. It's a hormone swinging, banana peel transition to Menopause, a mature woman's condition with side effects that no one really gives a shit about unless you have them.
Oh, was that too cranky?
Now I know that all of this whining makes me seem I'm ungrateful for the miracles my medical team and oncologists everywhere perform every day to take women like me from fighting for our lives to living our lives out loud. Believe me, I'm grateful.
And, in honor of all of us who are fighting this dreaded disease, I will get out there in the sunshine and enjoy this beautiful day.
I'm just sayin' it "ain't" easy.