cancer. free.
I HAD cancer.
I fucking beat you!!!!!
Pathology results came back last night and I was officially given the all clear by the fabulous Dr. Miller last night.
It was a blessed minute in the midst of a horrible confusion. Nobody said what anesthesia and drugs to do you. Probably I'm taking it worse since I was never a Rx person- It was the grand hurrah of the end of 6 months of SHIT my body is going through.
Since surgery- besides being in horrible pain 24-7- my nights are filled with pyschosis. Like bad psychosis.
Waking up and freezing, even though I was in room temp. even with 5 blankets on me, I am still cold. Then I start the sweating.
Then my head goes into "caged animal who can't do shit" mode and I go nuts- I see things, I have nightmares, I'm trapped inside a container.
Last night's adventure involved horses with clam faces eating my stomach innards, Etan Patz sitting in front of me, and a crazy woman who was also in the room with me saying all sorts of nasty things and that I was worthless piece of shit and didn't deserve to live over and over. I couldn't make it go away.
I flipped out yesterday on my family - I don't remember most of it, but I remember screaming at the top of my lungs, yelling and carrying on and crying.
I was sleeping in my dad's chair last night, the same chair he had to get when he had cancer- he spent a few nights in here, he loved this chair. It was a bittersweet morning of opening my eyes and smiling that I had done something he couldn't. And I did it for him.
Pretty much I can't do anything. My right arm is like a T Rex arm with weird numbness and - pain- as you can see from my drawing skills have quite diminished. Thomas Kinkade is dead--- I would have some serious competition there for a second.
I cannot walk upright and my wounds go from my gut to my breasts, and into my armpits -the side that HAD cancer in it, my underarms feel weird inside- I can feel muscle tendons stretching and pulling--it is crazy weird.
My energy is hardly anything. Let's juts say I have a pretty good functioning set of legs and face. lol.
Ugh. and not being able to leave my home (or my mom's in this case) is frustrating.
and I'm loaded on Percoset.
I HATE DRUGS. They can save your life, and destroy it at the same time- I just hate them and wish I didn't have to take them- and anyone who finds this painkiller shit fun- I wonder why.
They suck.
I was never a fan of pills.
I cannot wait to stop these and cleanse my system.
My kids are suffering too - Melody is sick, getting molars and dealing with the fact her mom can't hold her. Not holding my kids has been the worst part of all of this. I can't even have them in my lap because of all the drains and stitches. ugh.
and they want to represent all of this with a pretty pink ribbon? FUCK THAT.
I hurt for the women doing this who can't escape the cancer. who can't ever say "I beat it". Let's find what causes this once and for all and get the pharm companies to lie down for a change. They created this whole pink ribbon bs in the first place.... the whole thing is disgusting, horrible and gross. Far from pink.
and through it all, I'll let y'all know that I rocked the weed. Medical Marijuana helped me work through chemo, sleep through bone pain, not be a zombie for my kids like Vicodins did, and created some sort of normalcy. and people like me and worse are forced to take the legal medication and go through shady channels to get the better medications. I did it with pot. (I finally told my mom so I can say it here too.)
Legalize that shit already. jesus christ.
But I still have the joyous news. I HAD CANCER.
And when Miller finally opened me up and took out the Armpit Shitshow- he had no idea just how many total lymph nodes were there- everyone has their own special number. It's just a chunk of fatty tissue that they take apart in the lab.
How many lymph nodes did Brianne have total in the Armpit Shitshow?
9.
and 1 had cancer left in it.
go fuck yourself cancer.
DONT EVER MESS WITH JERSEY AGAIN.
xo
- the torso.
