I give you not a post on April 1st, because then you might not take anything I posted seriously.
Cancer Bitches has just absolutely taken off like you wouldn't believe; more and more people are joining like crazy. I guess it's pretty damn obvious that I'm not the only one who was turned into a bitch by cancer and who despises the pink ribbon shit, so that is awesome sauce.
603 Pinterest followers, with 348 of those being on A Valid Option.
#foodporn seems to be my largest amount of retweets, retwits, whatever it's called, so I know where everyone's minds wandered off to.
A few weeks ago, Streak made a lovely herb covered pork roast covered with onion in her slow cooker and was kind enough to share the recipe with me. She was kind enough to invite me over with my slow cooker and she fixed the same thing in mine, which stayed there to cook and then we ate over there. She made mashed potatoes, green beans, and lovely honey rosemary carrots. It was a spectacular meal which I figured up made at least three huge meals to feed multiple people. I also replicated it a week later. If I can't find the recipe on pinterest soon, I may put it up here so the rest of you can fix this. The lovely ladies at our dentist's office all have the recipe, so it is getting circulation in this area.
RedHun recently won a five hundred dollar gift certificate, which I thought was cool.
Military Monkey is no longer Military Monkey. He received an honorable discharge from the military and will now be referred to as Civvie Monkey until I can come up with an appropriate new name for him. He'll be going to college, but since I have a College Monkey already, then I can't use that name for him. He and his adorable wife will be relocating soon to warmer living space.
College Monkey is changing jobs. He worked at his first job for two years, so this will be new territory for him and I think he'll like it.
Football Monkey has been doing Robotics, along with ROTC and football stuff. He got his football ring and it's an amazing sight to see.
The husband watching football stuff right now, which is always a good thing when it's not football season. We miss football season.
My lymphedema is driving me batty on the right side, namely my right upper arm. Why, you ask? Because of the storm fronts that keep moving through. The change in air pressure affects my arm more than I ever thought it could. I need to acquire more kinesio tape so I can bribe Streak with cookies to tape me for pain control since I'd rather not sleep in my mono-sleeve thingy.
Time to make more toothpaste, which is always fun.
And a big Fuck You to the vile cancer industry and a big cheer for this project, Woman: Redefined, Dignity, and Breast Cancer. If only I'd had access to something like this before my surgery, I might have had a slightly different perspective about the vileness of my body and what it would look like with the nasty scars. I hope these people succeed far beyond what they ever could have imagined at the beginning of this project.
Since I wound up back on the subject of cancer, I try to help other people, you know, with stuff like the Cancer Bitches group. I keep getting thanked for it. None are needed, I just want people to have a safe place away from the mindlessly brainwashed masses who have had breast cancer and actually believe the pink ribbon shit does something for them. Harsh of me, well, fuck yeah, then again, I'm an opinionated bitch and I've been speaking my mind about my opinions regarding the lies of the cancer industry and other assorted shit related to it.
Cancer Bitches was started to give people a safe place to vent and say they are having a shitty day or week without fucking fake ass shit spewed at them in an insincere and smarmy assed, priggish manner. (Jesus fucking christ, I'm so happy I just got to use a form of the word prig here!) There's a need for the bitchtastic bitchitude of the Bitcherhood that is Cancer Bitches and no, we dgaf. Sometimes people need a virtual hug and not told they aren't doing cancer "right" because they are having a bad day or week. JS
Anyway, I'm modifying the following topic as a warning to you non-cancer community people of what NOT to say to someone who has had cancer. I've had this happen more than once. True fact. (I must warn you now, please go pee because you might wet yourself laughing or you'll be offended as fuck.)
The subject of hair came up. Those of us who have been bald from chemo and/or radiation know the bizarre-ness of people commenting on the bald and/or touching the fuzz that is hair trying to grow back. It's rather humiliating, it's a disgusting violation of the Personal Bubble Space, and well, it's as offensive as fuck all, like grabbing for a visibly pregnant stranger's expanding waistline while idiotic comments are being made.
(That said, I don't touch anyone's pregnant belly, but I'll lean down and wave and say "Hey, little person, nice to see you there!" which people find amusing and inoffensive.)
My commentary on Cancer Bitches went something like this.
Just wait until you get one of the stupid dumb ass questions that you aren't anticipating. This happened to me more than once, but now it's not about the hair, it's about the scars and flat chest. But this is how I deal with it now, but it took me a few times to figure it out. I might be slow, but I didn't fall off the pumpkin truck last year. True fact.
Me: *standing there minding your own business*
Dumb Ass: *figures out you've had cancer* Oh, so you've had cancer! Your hair is growing back!
Me: Yes, thank you.
Dumb Ass: So, your hair fell out?
Me: Yes.
Dumb Ass: So ALL of your hair fell out?
Me: Yes.
Dumb Ass: So aaaAAALLLlll of your hair fell out? *at this point I'm given what they think is a "KNOWING" look* ALL Of It?!
Me: *not figuring out what they meant until this conversation happened several times, but because I'm so fucking awesome, I now know how to deal with it and am sharing with others, so they can deal with it in an awesomely bitchtastic way* Oh, if you mean ALL of my hair, as in even the hair on my girly bits, why yes, yes it did ALL fall out. Any more questions?
Dumb Ass: *looks appalled that I called them on it* Oh.
Me: Any further questions?
Dumb Ass: No.
Please, for fuck's sake, do not ever ask someone that. I cannot imagine what the fucking thoughts in someone's head actually prompts them to spout this shit out like it's perfectly acceptable content for acceptable social behavior when conversing with a complete stranger like discussing the weather.
What the ever loving fuck all?
Just please don't do it.
Thank you for your time and attention regarding this manner. That is your friendly PSA about what not to say to a current or former oncology patient.
You are now returned to your regularly scheduled blog reading, food porn or whatever you're into these days.
