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Back again…….

August 14, 2013

It has been a few months since I last wrote an entry. A very cool, kind, insightful person left several comments for me today on my blog…and that got me thinking it is time to do a little writing.

I have made it through 2 surgeries since April for breast reconstruction. The first surgery they put in an expander under my chest wall. It is like a tough balloon that expands. I had to go to see my surgeon every week or so for about 6 weeks where he injected saline into the balloon and that led to the stretching. It created a pocket that would support a prosthetic boob. That was the 2nd surgery. They removed the expander and put in the prosthetic boob. They also had to lift and reduce the other boob to match the new one. I didn’t realize that was going to be so tricky. They had to cut that breast from the center of my chest to under my arm and also from the bottom of my breast to the center…where they cut off my nipple and reattached it. Holy cow. Quite an ordeal.

I am about healed up and am doing well. I think I was high on pain meds when I wrote a couple of entries in the blog in April. I was very loopey after the 1st surgery but they adjusted the pain meds after the 2nd surgery so I was not so out of it. Thank God.

The whole process was hard. The stretching hurt like hell. It felt like tearing tendons apart… Then the expander was high on my chest while my other boob, the real one, was much lower. It looked very odd. I wore baggy shirts. My boobs match fairly well now…and the one good part of it all is I have the boobs of a teenager…at least that is the appearance when I am wearing clothes. Naked, there is a scar that runs from under one arm to under the other. One boob does not have a nipple. A new nurse who saw me…I could tell…she nearly fainted. It is scary to see for the first time. I am not shy…I had to stand without a shirt in front of so many doctors and nurses in the past few years. I forget that it is a bit much to see for someone not familiar with breast cancer surgeries.

I am smoking again. You had to know that would happen. I am weak and ridiculous. I know it. I should be ashamed but I really don’t care. I will quit again. There is no excuse. There is no reason. I just wanted a cigarette. I have been in pain and misery for months and I just wanted a smoke.

I am walking a mile or so almost every day. I have kept my weight under control. I am feeling okay…still pain and weird sensations but it is getting better.

I found out my sister, whom I have never mentioned in my blog, has breast cancer and is just starting the whole freaking process. I did not have to have chemo or radiation as the cancer had not spread to my lymph glands. My sister is not so lucky. She started chemo a few days ago. It sucks big time. My whole family basically ignored me throughout my breast cancer. No one checked on me or visited after my latest surgeries. I have decided to not be like that toward my sister. I have been calling. She is scared. I understand that feeling.

Today I actually heard from my brother. He has had no interest in my recovery or status but he called to tell me my mother fell and broke her hip today. I am glad he called but it is sort of amazing to me how my family has no interest in my health but I am supposed to jump in the car and run to the hospital to see my Mother. And I will do it. I can hardly wait. She will wake up and find something cruel and insulting to say to me. I wouldn’t want to miss that. She will probably eventually have some little witty thing to say about my titties. I will get to hear how titty cancer and a mastectomy are nothing compared to a broken hip. I agree that a broken hip sucks but so does breast cancer. Of course, HER breast cancer was horrific. She had a biopsy of a place…which she now tells everyone was a lumpectomy. Her doctor told me she had stage 0 cancer. Seriously. It was a little place that was precancerous….but my dear mother is a survivor of breast cancer you know.

I am so angry. I so dislike my Mother. I wish I could find some warm spot in my heart toward that woman but it is not there. If I just had one happy, kind memory of her, I think I could feel differently. I tried and tried and tried but every time I gave her another chance, it turned out to be a mistake. She doesn’t know how to be anything but awful toward me. I keep thinking of times she told me I was unlovable, how no one could love me, how I don’t deserve anything in life, what a rotten person I am……… and how she has tried to convince my husband of these things….it just makes me go cold. I remember how I took her to lunch with a bunch of our friends and the first thing she said to everyone was what a mean person I was. I remember how she used to call my father-in-law and try to convince him I was worthless. He always told me about it. It upset him. I can’t remember being in her presence in front of other people when she did not whisper horrific things about me to anyone who was near. She didn’t try very hard to keep me from hearing.

My brother told me today that I would be needed after my Mother got out of the hospital. I have made a decision. I freaking am not taking care of her. I will not wipe her butt. I will not fetch her food. I will not give her a bath. I will not be on call. She can go to a nursing home or she can hire someone to help her or she can let her beloved children take care of her. I ain’t doing it. She will work me to death, insult me every step of the way, and whisper untrue, cruel things about me to anyone who will listen. She stayed with us once for several months as she went through radiation treatments for that precancerous place. It was a nightmare. She did everything in her power to destroy my marriage. She would cry and say awful things about me to my husband …trying to convince him that I didn’t deserve him. I was the one who drove her to the hospital and back from the hospital every day before I went to work. I fixed her 3 meals a day. I took her every where she needed to go. I bought her everything she needed. I drove her home every Friday for the weekend which is a long trip…and I went back and picked her up on Sunday. We gave up our living room and tv for her. She would be tired at 7 pm and would want us to leave the living room…saying she wanted to sleep…but she stayed up and watched tv until midnight. We just weren’t allowed to be in there with her. (She might have to let us have a say on the television shows and she wasn’t about to let that happen.) It got really old. Of course though, I did nothing to help her…and I was so selfish and uncaring. Thank God for my husband. He told her if I was so bad and she was so unhappy, he would drive her ass home and she could get herself to the hospital.

Ranting, ranting, ranting. Something about all of these surgeries and hard things I have gone through with this breast cancer has changed me. I don’t give a rat’s ass any longer. I am tired of trying to care. I am tired of trying to ignore the obvious. I am tired of giving and doing for someone who has never had any kind intentions toward me. She is my mother but she is not a mother. She is an awful person and I do not like her or want to be around her. I am sorry if anyone is hurt or injured but that does not change who she is. I do not wish bad things for her but I no longer am willing to put up with bad things from her just because she is my biological mother. She has spent so much of her life energy trying to convince people, especially me, that I am a mistake, a nothing…. Somehow she has it in her mind that it makes her look better if she can make me look bad. She doesn’t seem to realize that most people don’t like such negative talk and that it does not make her look good, it makes her look like what she is: sick. Everything she says about me is a projection of her own rotten self. What a miserable life. What a miserable soul. I am so very, very fortunate. I am angry at the moment but overall I am a happy person ….and that must really piss her off. I cannot imagine how sad it must be for her to have such ugliness going on all the time.

Underneath my anger, I feel very sad. I can’t believe how my immediate family so ignored me as I went through my surgeries. I can’t believe how alone I have felt. It really is very clear that I do not have anyone in my family who cares anything about me. I am so very glad I have a loving husband. He has been so good to me.

The anger and the sad feelings will pass. I have clarity. I have been living in some form of denial…half pretending that I had a family who cared. I just don’t. I am okay though. I am going to be even better. I can’t fix this situation. It is what it is. Somehow truth is comforting, even if it is hard. I can let go of false hope and the illusion that somehow maybe I can make things different. I cannot change my Mother. I cannot make her love me. I cannot make her stop saying bad things to me and about me. I cannot help her have some insight and awareness that will alter her personality and her behavior. This is how she has been and it is how she will continue. It is out of my hands. I do not have bad feelings toward my brother or my sister. I know that they have been conditioned to hate me by my Mother. That is how they could have a connection with her. They are okay with her as long as they don’t have anything to do with me. Fine. Sad for them. I freaking survived breast cancer. I have lived in an emotional hell most of my life. No more. I see rainbows. I see sunlight. I feel happiness. I am alive..and with life… there is hope.

  1. gothrules permalink

    I’m not a preacher, I swear i am not a fanatic. But one piece of advice Jesus ever gave that just gives me the utmost, satisfying pleasure is this: thou shall not cast pearls before swine……I might have written that one before but re-reading that blog above I just have to repeat it. Don’t cast yourself before swine. You know perfectly well the “reward” that is waiting from you from your “mother” (you may call her that if you like, personally I have another word).

  2. Soledad Mendoza permalink

    Thank you for taking the time to put into words what I have been feeling inside. Exactly how I feel and it is ok. I will be ok and there is not a freaking thing my mother can do to get near me

  3. I just re-read this years later and one great metaphor finally got through to me. The ripping of the tendons in your chest (the ripping of your heart by your mother and your family), the disease that ravaged your body (the mother that ravaged your life), your body and its betrayal by turning against you with an infectious disease (your family betraying you and turning against you when you are so sick). Your House and your house had fallen down around you. At least you can build yourself up again. Something, as you say, to hang onto.

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