tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46642769334260220442024-03-13T18:16:49.856-04:00The Brunette Lucy vs. Breast Cancer - And Cancer Can Suck It!THE BRUNETTE LUCY VS. BREAST CANCER - AND CANCER CAN SUCK IT!
This blog is a journal of one woman's battle with breast cancer. I plan to be honest, & to share as much information as my small brain can manage to smush in without exploding.
Hopefully, you'll get a laugh or two along the way. Follow me, especially if you're silly. And trust me, after reading about the dumb stuff I do, you'll be happy you're you!Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.comBlogger129125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-30339947246957867012018-11-22T08:14:00.000-05:002018-11-22T08:14:47.232-05:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b><u><span style="font-size: large;">Happy Thanksgiving</span></u></b></div>
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Give us this day and our daily bread.</div>
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It's not just a prayer that we say before bed.</div>
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It's a way of saying thanks for all that we've got.</div>
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Even if what we have doesn't seem like a lot.</div>
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It means to cherish each day, and not rush too fast.</div>
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Because luckily we don't know which day will be last.</div>
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Want only in life the things that you earn and are giv'n.</div>
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And you'll always get more than you want out of liv'n.</div>
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This is my toast and my little way.</div>
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Of saying thanks on this Thanksgiving day.<br />
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I wrote that poem for my family years ago,<br />
and I still mean every word...<br />
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Today am I thankful? Yes, a friend reminded me that I <u><b>HAVE</b></u> what most men aspire, and some never achieve.... 30 wonderful years with the<b> love</b> of my life, successful, healthy, supportive kids. Many friends and jobs that I really love... Thanks God.<br />
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Back to Tam's blog:<br />
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Yay 2016... Tamara is on Ibrance and letrozol oral chemotherapy, this combination was supposed to stop the progression of cancer for two years...stop. the. progression. In a study of X amount of patients vs Y patients we were happy to hear it. Stop the progression for two years, hell in two years they'll have a cure, right? <br />
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I don't know how other people and they're spouses are expected to deal with cancer, but for us, it was "okay we got this, we got a plan and we're going to beat this"...never say never...please dear readers never, ever say never...We went on with our LIFE and woke each day forging a future for our family.... Our daughter Elyse was engaged, and there was a future...a shower to plan, a wedding to plan.... (beautiful wedding by the way) a new job (turned into a godsend) ...more friends...more life...more LIVING...Tamara was keeping up with her scans and trudging <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">along</span> with cancer constantly on her mind, For six months......then<br />
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In June, just as we line up to start our new career in title search, excited to do something different with loads of benefits and insurance, Tamara goes for her 6 month scan.... nervous as hell, for this particular test, because it was a brain MRI. Tam is claustrophobic as hell and hated this test like no other.... I know in earlier posts that she described in great detail the anxieties she would have, and I would ask anybody who has not read Tam's blog before to go back and read it, she is waaay more entertaining.<br />
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(Tam speak) Anywho, Brain MRI<br />
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Tam took two Xanax before the MRI so she could tolerate the clicking, stiff, uncomfortable, claustrophobic machine....and fell asleep during the procedure...The next day she was told that there was some activity/cautious looking spots throughout her brain. I told her that since she fell asleep that what they were seeing was just "<b>dream activity"</b>...cause <i>I'm</i> a doctor or something, right?....It calmed us for the day... NOT... they told her on a Friday....What the a EFF, a whole weekend to GOOGLE brain cancer, not cool....<br />
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what she went through....<br />
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On Monday they told her that it was, METS (metastasis)... she would need whole head radiation... she was fitted for a mesh "mask" for her face...<i>what is that? </i><br />
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It's where they wrap your head in a plastic "paper mache" and let it "set" while you lay there like a rock...horrible<br />
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10 "rounds" of radiation was in order...That's going to the doctor every day for two weeks, ya get weekends off...woohoo...On one of her last "rounds" as she was checking in I watched....I was sitting there with kindle making believe I'm reading...but I watched... Tamara was working the room, complementing the staff "wow, y'all look so pretty today!" and chatting up the other patents in the waiting room, she then sat next to me and a woman I thought that she knew from earlier that week. Tam started telling her how handsome her son looked on her previous visit, and how she hoped everything would be okay for her future, you know Tam stuff...Tam was called back...The girl at the counter said "It's so nice that you have a friend like her" to the woman that Tamara was chatting with... "her?" the woman said, "I just met her now, but she just made me feel good"...I'm like, <i>Yeah she did</i>...that's <i>what</i> she did...She made you feel good.<br />
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One week later, as I was in the office collecting taxes on a Saturday, Tamara called me and said we need to go to the hospital!! I didn't hang up, I locked the door and ran like hell to our room. Tam told me that she "thinks" she had a seizure and woke up on the floor... Ah yeah, we need to go to the hospital. A weekend of tests and bed rest was everything that she needed, and hated... what she had was a swelling in her noggin from all the radiation and was ordered up two weeks of steroid meds to relieve the throbbing. Steroids have they're own nasty side effect issues as well but "ya gots to do what ya gots to do" was her motto.<br />
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The results of the radiation where good, her radiologist, <i>eh</i>, not so good. My daughter Elyse accompanied Tamara to a follow up with said radiologist.<br />
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Up next Mini T<br />
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<br />Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-60666042340680549642018-11-18T09:35:00.000-05:002018-11-18T09:35:02.901-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Three weeks ago a light went out</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">you moved it from it's place</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The light was getting weaker there</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We could see it in your face</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It shined so bright and for so long</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It showed us all the way</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The fact that it was on all the time</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Helped us through our day</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Your glow was always that of morning shine</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and afternoons of fun</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We never wanted to think about the setting of the sun</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Your light has moved and not visible</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">in any normal speaking sense</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But for those you love, the heat and</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">focus are becoming more intense.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, when I need your help, and I'm overwhelmed</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">with days that I can't handle</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'll relocate your light again in the flicker of a candle</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-Your Knight, Your Love </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yes, it's been three weeks, life goes on...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mine is stuck....I've got to get back on track...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thank you to all that have encouraged me to continue Tamara's blog and I promise this is the last bummer post. Promise.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tamara was the most positive person anyone would ever have the pleasure to meet, she was the yin to my yang. I want to be her yin from now on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I said I'd tell you all what happened...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When stage four reared it's ugly head we immediately made the battle plan to do whatever was necessary to stave off the inevitable.... it's inevitable </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On December 24th 2015, yes Christmas Eve, Tamara underwent hysterectomy surgery so that the new chemo drug "Ibrance" would be effective. She did this because she never went through menopause and this drug is meant for post-menopausal women.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Funny story here, yes we're talking about Tamara there's always a funny story.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before surgery the anesthesiologist came in to introduce himself and prepare Tam for what will happen next (poor guy probably didn't realize that Tam has been through a dozen surgeries before this) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He instructed Tam to remove all jewelry...yes Tamara went to an early morning, scheduled surgery, wearing her watch, bracelet, necklace, earrings and rings on her fingers. Not to mention she got up extra early so she could get on her makeup (false eyelashes included)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She removed all of it except her wedding ring... He's all "please remove all of it because we don't want any swelling and complications while you're under"...Makes sense too me, I'm all safety and pragmatist I said Tam it's okay we've done this over and over take it off.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Tamara, the forever romantic...asked him why he would be the first anesthesiologist ever to insist that she remove her wedding ring. He again explained the dangers and I convinced her to begrudgingly remove the ring that has never left her hand in 27 years.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well like a tree that has a rope on it as a sapling grows, so do you fingers...In comes nurses with vaseline then baby oil then a string to somehow wrap around the ring and finger to magically remove the ring. Finally they brought in a doctor with an industrial pair of wire cutters and snapped in off and handed it to me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Off she went to surgery and all went well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Of course I had it repaired. I returned it to her finger and didn't remove it until three weeks ago today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay that was the last bummer....promise</span></div>
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Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-13644248765501258142018-11-17T08:40:00.000-05:002018-11-17T08:40:42.450-05:00This is Matt<br />
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I think it would be something Tamara would want me to do and tell you all that her journey with cancer has come to the inevitable conclusion. Tamara passed at our little lake house on October 28th.<br />
Yes October, breast cancer AWARENESS month. She found the whole awareness a ridiculous concept, especially for those battling this insidious disease.<br />
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I don't know...I want to do all things Tamara....I'm nowhere close to the talented writer that my wife is, but I want to continue this blog in her honor....I'm not sure if anyone is going to read it but I feel like doing this will be sort of cathartic and maybe she will inspire me to write things as inspirational as she did.<br />
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How did it happen? What happened since she wrote last?<br />
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We started doing title search work together in 2016. a: to do something together (we did everything together) b: INSURANCE the most important thing to us was this amazing company that we worked for and the wonderful benefit of stellar insurance coverage they provided. Tamara's cancer was back with a vengeance, but you all know from her writings, that Tamara always walked on the sunny-side of the street, and there was no way that this was going to get her, publicly. Privately....I think the reason that she stopped blogging was that she crossed the street...she never let on but I noticed that her blogging stopped and I think she didn't want to scare you all <i>(Tam sic y'all). </i>Tamara stayed unbelievably strong for her many friends and loving family and she moved on with the many treatments that she was offered. Whole brain radiation, targeted radiation all of the chemotherapy that the body can tolerate. I'll write more of how Tamara reacted to each and every one for those that care to read and learn, I think that was her intention from the beginning, and that was to inform other really scared women what they will encounter. I also don't want to be the guy to scare off the many readers that Tamara has. This ended for Tamara, not how we would have intended, and not necessarily the same way that it will for others, new treatments are becoming available all the time.<br />
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Tamara was diagnosed in October 2009 and has had many joys and milestones achieved since that horrible day. And I'll get into them as well because she did all of them while <b>living</b> with cancer. Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-77458772920422424222016-03-25T16:10:00.000-04:002016-03-25T16:10:01.804-04:00Stage 4 - A New Life Begins<br />
If you’ve read my blog before, you know that I wrote each and every little thing that happened to me from diagnosis to when I thought I was cured. It was a way for me to release inner fears, but it was also meant to help others. I was always candid, and as you may know, always silly. This go ‘round is different for a reason. But first, let me catch you up.<br />
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In October, I went for my yearly scan - the magical 5th year. Supposedly, if you get to year 5, you’re in the clear. I took my daughter with me and we went to lunch and shopping afterwards; kind of a celebratory day. Until dinnertime.<br />
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The phone rang and it was my oncologist, Dr. Nakajima. He informed me that they had found something in the scan. There’s a spot on my spine, a little bit on my liver, and an enlarged lymph node. He said he was pretty sure my cancer had come back. As I spoke to him, all 3 of my children and my husband, Matt, came into the room. The look of horror on their faces as they heard my side of the conversation and figured out that cancer had come back was heart breaking. Dr. Nakajima said his nurse would call in the morning to line up all the necessary scans.<br />
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I hung up the phone and looked into the stunned eyes of my family. And then we cried. After several minutes, I kicked into mommy mode. I told them the truth, that it was very, very early in the cancer, as far as Nakajima could tell. And he’d said that it was very treatable, and I said that over and over and over again.<br />
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I couldn’t stand myself. I was the one who let cancer invade their lives again. I know I didn’t ask for it, didn’t want it, and was definitely frightened of it, but if not for me, our lives would be our family’s version of normal. It’s a bitter realization, and yes, I know it’s not my fault, but I’m still responsible. When you’re a mom, bringing any kind of sorrow into your children’s lives is tantamount to opening the door and inviting Satan in.<br />
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The funny thing is, Matt and I had just returned from a long, celebratory weekend to Ocean City. We hadn’t been there for a while (cancer kinda gets in the way), and there’s an old historic hotel, The Flanders, that I had wanted to go to for the past 25 years. We went there to put a period on the last 5 years and to begin another chapter in our lives - one that didn’t have cancer as part of it. I even made a slide video; you can see it <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oOZaLqMF4Ho" target="_blank">here</a>. It was wonderful, and I’m glad we went, but the irony isn’t lost on either of us.<br />
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I had a few scans, including a PET scan. I’m going to go off topic for second, though, because I think it’s important for you to know what to expect when you’re told you need a PET scan. I was told that it would take a few hours, so the night before, I charged up my Kindle and off I went in the morning. And here’s what they DIDN’T tell me. I couldn’t read my book, a magazine, a phone book, nothing. I was injected with some kind of dye, and told I had to lay still for 90 minutes (yup, an hour and a half). No reading, since even that small eye movement would light up like a Christmas tree. Folks, I’m a fidget and being still for 5 minutes is difficult. Being in a dark room, lying on an uncomfortable gurney, listening to their “soothing” music (if new age is your thing, then, yes, I guess it was soothing. It just irritated me and made the time slow to a crawl), I lay there. New age music has its place - just not in MY musical repertoire.<br />
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In what seemed like years, rather than an hour and a half, the nurse came in and I was brought into a room with a machine that rather looked like an MRI machine. The rest of the test took maybe 15 minutes, and I was finally done. Why am I telling you this? Because if being still for an hour and a half, while enduring crappy music is your thing, then a PET scan is going to be a piece of cake. My advice? Bring some music you actually like with you. It’ll make the time pass quicker - I think. I hope.<br />
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But as usual, I have digressed. Back to the story.<br />
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It was finally confirmed - I was now living the Stage 4 lifestyle. New medicines, more drugs, more pain, and a life that was now going to be full of scans and blood tests. For the rest of the time I have left on this earth.<br />
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But, on the bright side, there was a new medicine called “Ibrance” that just came on the market. It’s being touted as a new wonder drug, and can extend the length of my life. At Fox Chase, where Matt and I went for a second opinion, Dr. Carlson confirmed Dr. Nakajima’s opinion that due to new therapies, coupled with how early the cancer was caught and that it’s a slow growing cancer, my outlook is pretty good. And that’s what brings me to why I haven’t been too vocal about it for all these months.<br />
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I have several friends that I’ve met on my journey, ones that are really, really sick. I’m going to lose a few within the next year; one I said goodbye to last year. I don’t feel right announcing this on my FB page or any other social media right now. These women won’t have the necessary criteria to use the new medicine. I wish I never had to make this announcement, pray that I won’t lose any more friends, and hope that no other woman or man has to deal with breast cancer or any other form of cancer. But sadly, none of those dreams will be realized anytime soon.<br />
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Cancer is insidious and is an equal opportunity destroyer. It changes you, it frightens you, and you experience thoughts and feelings that you probably would never ponder until it breaks down the door of your life and and invades like a Storm Trooper. There is no Obi Wan Kanobi, no magic pill, no cure. It is now going to be part of the rest of my life and the lives of my beloved Matt and our children.<br />
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On the bright side, with the support of family and friends, there will be many happy days to come. Life continues with all its milestones, including the fact that on May 14th, our daughter, Elyse, will marry HER Knight in Shining Armour, Rob. We have a bridal shower to plan, a service to attend, a reception to hold and a new son to welcome. Life continues and it’s still wonderful, full of love, happiness, and many more joyful memories.<br />
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I’ve decided to look at this new part of my life with hope and the same humour coupled with the goofy escapades that have always been a part of who I am. I will fight and I’m sure I’ll stumble. But that’s OK, because that’s part of life.<br />
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I’ve chosen to embrace hope. The human spirit, our belief in God, and our love of family and friends are things that cancer can’t take away from us. <br />
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And that is what will make us triumph over cancer.<br />
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(If you’d like to get in touch with me, feel free to “like” either one or both of my Facebook pages, “<a href="https://www.facebook.com/thebrunettelucy/?fref=nf" target="_blank">The Brunette Lucy</a>” or “<a href="https://www.facebook.com/The-Brunette-Lucy-vs-Breast-Cancer-And-Cancer-Can-Suck-It-165186259033/" target="_blank">The Brunette Lucy vs. Breast Cancer</a>”)<br />
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<br />Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-71131679189117641532016-01-15T14:55:00.000-05:002016-01-15T17:00:55.390-05:00Cancer, Stage 4 - exit left!<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml><w:WordDocument><w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel><w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery><w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>2</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery><w:DocumentKind>DocumentNotSpecified</w:DocumentKind><w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>7.8</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing><w:View>Normal</w:View><w:Compatibility><w:DontGrowAutofit/><w:BalanceSingleByteDoubleByteWidth/><w:DoNotExpandShiftReturn/></w:Compatibility><w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom></w:WordDocument></xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml><w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true" DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99" LatentStyleCount="156" ><w:LsdException 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Priority="99" Name="Emphasis" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="Document Map" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="Plain Text" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="E-mail Signature" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="Normal (Web)" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="HTML Acronym" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="HTML Address" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="HTML Cite" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="HTML Code" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="HTML Definition" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="HTML Keyboard" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="HTML Preformatted" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="HTML Sample" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="HTML Typewriter" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="HTML Variable" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="Normal Table" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="annotation subject" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="No List" ></w:LsdException><w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="99" Name="Balloon Text" ></w:LsdException></w:LatentStyles></xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml><w:WordDocument><w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel><w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery><w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>2</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery><w:DocumentKind>DocumentNotSpecified</w:DocumentKind><w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>7.8</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing><w:View>Normal</w:View><w:Compatibility><w:DontGrowAutofit/><w:BalanceSingleByteDoubleByteWidth/><w:DoNotExpandShiftReturn/></w:Compatibility><w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom></w:WordDocument></xml><![endif]--><span style="font-size: small;">It's funny how the human mind works. After I'd been cancer free for a few years, I stopped keeping up on this blog. I guess it was because I figured that if I didn't talk about it anymore, cancer would die from neglect. But that's the thing about cancer, it really doesn't care whether or not you ignore it. IT makes up the time schedule, whether you feed it or not. Sometimes, it decides that the battle should begin anew. It's reared its ugly head, and has challenged me to another duel. I am now Stage 4 - my cancer has metastasized. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Due to other health issues, my niece, Melody, has dubbed me the "Queen of Beating the Odds". Well, it's time to pick up the crown, give it a good scrub, and put it back on my head. Along with a hefty suit of armour.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">It's time to go to war.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'll write more this weekend, but let me say this. There is an arsenal of new medicines that have just recently (within 3-6 months) been approved in this fight. And I intend to use each & every one of them.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span> </span><br />
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Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-33524842232254415532014-04-10T13:48:00.003-04:002014-04-10T13:48:23.626-04:00New nipple - hopefully<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Well, folks, Dr. Morrissey tattoed my new nipple a few weeks ago. It started out really dark, and didn't match ol' lefty even a little bit. He said it'll lighten up, which is has, but it's not quite a match. We're going to wait a few months & see what happens. And hasn't that been the story of my battle with cancer to date? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Anyways, I've finally decided to write my book about my battle with cancer. Just as I've been here with you, I'm going to be very candid about what I've been through. I just recently realized that I was Stage 3c, which is one step away from metasticizing. Translation - whole different outcome. I would have been annoying the daylights out of St. Peter to let me thru the Gates of Heaven. I'm Lucy, though, I can annoy even a Saint. So I'm a very, very lucky girl. And St. Peter can breathe a sigh of relief that he doesn't have to deal with me yet. Then again, I might be going the other way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Keep your fingers crossed that I can finish this book! I get distracted easily and . . . . . oh, look, a butterfly! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span>Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-29762622043652695362014-01-27T02:17:00.000-05:002014-01-27T02:17:29.716-05:00It's late & I'm heading into bed soon. I'm up, though, cause I have an appointment with my oncologist, Dr. Nakajima. I have to have a real talk with him - and I haven't told you about it because I don't want you to worry that you may experience the same thing. I'm pretty sure I'm in the minority.<br />
<br />
Anyways, I've been experiencing shooting pains from my elbows to my hands. When it reaches my hands, they tingle, itch and/or feel like they're being poked with a hundred needles. Needless to say, it isn't pleasant. Couple that with my joint pain, the pain that radiates from my back to my front legs all the way to the soles of my feet, & I'm hurting a lot more than I thought I would at this time.<br />
<br />
Let me be REALLY CLEAR, though! I contracted MRSA during the mastectomy & spent months trying to knock it out. I had 3 additional surgeries & an extended hospital stay so they could administer IV antibiotics. They also left the wound open, packed it, & cleaned it. It wasn't pleasant. Then I had the max amount of chemo they could give you followed by 6 weeks of radiation - a lot of people don't have to go thru that many. What I'm experiencing is unusual. Please don't think that because I'm sharing this with you that it's in any way normal. If you have any questions, or want to pick my brain, please leave a message either at the bottom of this blog or directly to me at tamkells@gmail.com. Please put "cancer" or something like that in the memo line, though, so I know it's okay to open the email.<br />
<br />
Anyways, I've been having pain & Dr. Nakajima gave me pain meds a few months ago. I don't want to have to continue to take them, which is evidenced by the fact that I don't get in touch with Dr. Nakajima before any appointment to ask for more. I take them sparingly, but the fact of the matter is that I need to ask him for more.<br />
<br />
The weird thing is that I'm nervous about doing that! Matt keeps telling me that I just went thru Hell, & am dealing with painful side effects & that's his job to help me. Still, I don't want him to think I'm trolling for drugs. Matt made me promise I'd ask though.<br />
<br />
I'll let you know this week what happened. Also, if you have ANY suggestions about dealing with this neuropathy & the tingling/numbing/needles sticking in my hands, I'd sure appreciate your input. <br />
<br />
K, gotta get to bed. It's after 2:00 am! Thank you so much for your continued prayers.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-49215271127010850472013-10-15T19:32:00.001-04:002013-10-15T19:32:42.520-04:00PINKTOBER (or, shoot me now)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">During Pinktober, I and my fellow cancer bloggers,
rail about the world turning pink and all the money to be made by slapping a
pink ribbon on just about everything. However, for the record, I want to thank
everyone who purchased the products, signed up for the walks, and wore (or
wear) pink ribbons. I know that you wanted to help, and thought you were doing
so. I can’t tell you how deeply I appreciate what you’ve done. BBC (before
breast cancer), I did the same thing because, like you, I never knew the truth.
Still, if you want to wear the pink ribbon – you go right on ahead! I’m not
offended! I think you’re awesome; I just want us all to take the next step
& demand honesty from those that claim to be helping us find “the cure”.
Again, thank you for wanting to help the cause and women like me. God Bless
You. </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I can’t help it, but every
time Pinktober rolls around, I think about Ralphie in the movie, “Christmas
Story”. Aunt Clara made a big pink bunny suit for him, which his mother forced him
to try on. As he comes down the steps, his mother thinks that it’s adorable
while his father shares in his son’s horror. He says that Ralphie looks like a
big pink nightmare. All I can think about is the other months, staring as October
is forced to wear pink; you just know they’re all laughing and pointing. Which is sad, because
October should be equated with falling leaves, apple cider, pumpkins, and
Halloween. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Sadly, like Ralphie, it’s now just a big pink nightmare.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I have my own rants coming
your way about this time of the year when all the world turns pink and
companies slap a pink ribbon on just about everything. Hey, there’s money to be
made! But before I rail, I want to share a post from my blogging sister, Ann
Silberman. Ann is a metastatic cancer patient, and is fighting each and every
day. The way I see it, if anyone can beat Stage 4, it’s Ann (and my friend,
Stacy). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">You can keep up with Ann
on her blog, “<a href="http://www.butdoctorihatepink.com/2013/10/turn-tables.html" target="_blank">Breast Cancer? But Doctor – I hate Pink</a>”. Here’s her story about
being contacted to help a guy “save man’s real best friend – boobs”. Ugh.
Wouldn’t it be nice if the emphasis was on saving the woman, not the boobs?
Anyways, here’s what Ann had to say to the idiot:</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="usercontent"><span>Look
at this jerk. He actually wrote me a private message and asked me to support
him in his effort to save "man's real best friend...boobs." and asked
me if I wanted to "rock a tee shirt" like a dying woman has the
energy to "rock" anyth</span></span><span class="textexposedshow"><span>ing, and support Komen and some damn race. He didn't
bother to call me by name, (more evidence that those of us with mets are not
people) he didn't learn my stance on Komen, didn't even gather a little clue by
the name "I hate pink." He just blithely asks me to help him get
MONEY so he can enjoy himself. He's spamming me, obviously, but hey, it's for
the "cause" How could I possibly object? </span></span><span><br />
<br />
<span class="textexposedshow">My response? In part: "I, along with many
metastatic women, do not support Komen and won't have anything to do with them.
Komen does not help the ONLY women who will die of breast cancer - those of us
with metastatic disease. Out of hundreds of millions of dollars raised, Komen
donates only 17% towards research that could possibly result in a cure. The
rest of their money goes to throw parties and races for the
"Survivors" which also include women who never had cancer. Their
profound focus on early detection has caused tens of thousands of women to lose
their breasts over a disease that is called DCIS which could never, ever have
killed them. Research would help them too.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="textexposedshow">I am dying of cancer. It is not cute, it is not
pink. It is not about bras, and it's not about "rocking" anything. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="textexposedshow">You want to show support for women with cancer?
Than learn something, don't just do something you enjoy already (exercise) and
pretend you are helping. Read my blog. Read sites like "Think Before You
Pink." Watch the movie Pink Ribbons, Incorporated. Read the New York Times
article (where I am quoted) here: </span><br />
<br />
<span class="textexposedshow"><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/28/magazine/our-feel-good-war-on-breast-cancer.html?ref=magazine&_r=0" target="_blank">http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/28/magazine/our-feel-good-war-on-breast-cancer.html?ref=magazine&_r=0</a></span><br />
<br />
<span class="textexposedshow">Ugh, I hate this month, where every idiot in the
world wants to make a buck off the suffering of the 40k women who will die this
year of breast cancer and everybody thinks because I have written about my
terminal disease of breast cancer I MUST support Komen. That is how brainwashed
they have people. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="textexposedshow">Do not help this guy and in fact, let's get the
word out that if he wants to run in a damn race then he should effing pay for
it himself. His prizes for donations include such sensitive and charming items
as "sweater puppy solo cups" </span><br />
<br />
<span class="textexposedshow">UGH UGH UGH UGH UGH</span><br />
<br />
<span class="textexposedshow">I suggest you ask any other metastatic women to
support you as you will likely get a very similar response.</span></span></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Thanks, Ann, for always
telling it like it is. If you’d like a REAL eye opener at how low Komen will go
to get money for feel good walks & parties, check out Ann’s latest post on
her Facebook page. You can read it <a href="https://www.facebook.com/ButdoctorIhatepink" target="_blank">here</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Un freaking believable.</span></div>
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Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-50801857968379517992013-09-01T19:59:00.000-04:002013-09-01T19:59:26.577-04:00Houston, we have a nipple<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Looking back on recent
posts, I see that I have been remiss in telling you about what you get sent
home with once you have a brand new nipple. Ready to find out what this sci-fi
like technological wonder is? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Really?
Okay, heeeerrrreee it is:</span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LAxwnL1hoUg/UiPTTYVoobI/AAAAAAAAAvE/1ELv2WUUEZY/s1600/Nipple+foam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LAxwnL1hoUg/UiPTTYVoobI/AAAAAAAAAvE/1ELv2WUUEZY/s320/Nipple+foam.jpg" width="305" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It’s a piece of foam that
they cut a hole in, held onto your breast with tape. Don’t get me wrong; it
works. The thing is, after seeing all that they can do with rebuilding my boob,
I expected there to be some amazing contraption (that I never would have
dreamed of) protecting the new nipple. Eh – the point is, it works, so there
you go.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The second nipple surgery
has gone quite well! Plus, Dr. Morrissey didn’t need to do a skin graft or take
fat, so there wasn’t any pain – woo hoo! It’s looking good, well, with the
exception of the ugly black stitches. Ever notice how black looks even darker
when it’s up against a light colour? I’m so white, I glow in the dark, so the
stitches are kind of scary looking.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The good news is that
there has been no oozing or scabbing this time!! The bad news is that it looks
like a little cone head. Hopefully, that’ll change in time, or else I’m going
to look perpetually cold.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I see either Morrissey or
Jason next Wednesday. I’ll let you know how it goes!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">In the meantime, here’s a
big head’s up!!!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">YOU CAN <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>NOT</u></b> WEAR UNDERWIRE BRAS IF YOU’VE
HAD DIEP FLAP RECONSTRUCTION SURGERY (and probably TRAM flap surgery as well).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Dr. Topham told me this,
but that was a while ago. I guess I conveniently forgot, as at the beginning of
summer, I was going nuts because I needed a strapless bra. Ever tried to find
one of those bad boys without a wire in them? Trust me – it’s like rooting for
truffles in a fish tank. I’d found this really cute dress, but it was
strapless. Finally, I decided that since it was only this one time, I dug out
an older strapless bra – with underwire. I trotted around, all happy with my
smart self, arrogantly thinking I knew what I was doing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Until that night. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I took off my bra, glanced
down at my boob, & saw that it was misshapen – really, really misshapen. It
looked like something out of a sci fi movie. I freaked out a little.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jby0YrvcLzg/UiPTfNod7CI/AAAAAAAAAvM/OX7E9Hq-K0Q/s1600/freaked+out+mom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jby0YrvcLzg/UiPTfNod7CI/AAAAAAAAAvM/OX7E9Hq-K0Q/s1600/freaked+out+mom.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Okay, I freaked out A LOT.
But it was the weekend so I couldn’t call Dr. Topham and let’s face it – a trip
to the emergency room was out of the question. Although if I’m being honest, it
did cross my mind. Fortunately, the boob was back to its normal boob like shape
in the morning. Crisis averted.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Still, I wanted to find a strapless
bra that didn’t house those little torture wires; I began to look everywhere.
They have plenty of those boob squishers called “bandeau bras”. If you happen
to wear a cup size over “B”, then this isn’t for you. Well, that is unless you
want your boobs flattened, sending them migrating to your back, thus parking
your nipple in your armpit. If that’s cool with you, then have at one - and
send pictures. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">However, one glorious day,
I took Boy to the Philadelphia Outlet mall, where I saw a Maidenform store. I
knew that I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t at least give it a shot, so I
went in. A really sweet girl (who I took to calling Angel when I retold the
story) asked if she could help me; so I told her that I was looking for what
constitutes the Holy Grail of bras for reconstructed boobs. She thought for a
second, then went towards the back of the store, stuck her hand in a display,
and brought out a wire free strapless bra. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I had to blink my eyes
really fast cause I could have sworn I saw a halo glowing over her head.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I asked if there were more
of these treasures hidden throughout the store, and she sadly informed me that
she was surprised they had this one. Oh, well, I didn’t care, I had the elusive
wire free strapless bra in my hot little hands and I was happier than a
politician with an original idea (whoops – that’ll never happen so let’s just
say I was happy). Just at the moment I thought Nirvana was mine, my salesgirl
asked if it was the right size. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">What? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I stood there gaping at
Angel as in my mind her halo fell off her head and Elvira, Mistress of the
Night, was looking back at me instead. It’s amazing how quickly one can go from
joy to despair.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Thankfully, the band size
was correct, but the cup size was one size too small. I thought for several
moments, then made a decision to buy the bra. I figured that as long as I had
one of those nipple foam devises to protect my new addition, I was gonna jam
those bad boys into that bra like I was stuffing a sausage. All was once again
right with the world and I took my bipolar self out of the store; of course,
after thanking Angel profusely.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Naturally, I wanted
another one of these miracle bras, and came home to begin my search on the
world wide intranets – only to find that they no longer manufacture this well
made bra. Well, of course they don’t – it’s comfortable. My friend, Dorothy,
said that maybe I could take wire out of a bra, which was brilliant! So I grabbed
an older one out and began the task of yanking the booby destroying wire out. A
few cuts, several gashes, a myriad of curse words that I didn’t even know I
knew and well over an hour later, I triumphantly held the wire in my bloody little hands. I
put it on, and grabbed a shirt. While my arms were heading north to put the
shirt on, the bra was headed south. Or, I found out what keeps most bras up –
and I’d just removed it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I’m still looking for a
comfortable wire free bra. Wait, I should amend that to strapless. You can find
many regular bras without the little torture wires, but that’s because straps
hold the girls in place. I have no idea what miracle produced the Maidenform
bra, but I’m still looking for another one. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">To that end, if you ever
stumble upon a Lilyette (made by Maidenform) bra, style #457, would you give me
a holler? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">This Wednesday, I think
Morrissey will take the stitches out of ol’ righty here. Soon, it’ll be time to
tattoo her so she looks like lefty. I’ll be sure to let you know, in mind
numbing detail, how it looks as we near the finish line. Why should things change now?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-38155532832662907702013-08-22T16:03:00.000-04:002013-08-22T16:03:53.322-04:00Just a quick giggleI'm getting a post ready, but until I put it up, I thought I'd share this with you.<br />
<br />
<i><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">If
you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it was meant to
be...if it doesn't come back it was never yours to begin with. BUT, if
it just sits in your living room, messes up your stuff, eats all of your
food, uses your phone, takes your money and doesn't appear to realize
you set it free...you either married it or gave birth to it!</span></i><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">And you'd get all this silliness for free if you "like" my Lucy page on Facebook. I have NO idea why that's important, but supposedly it is. I contend that my readers are like me - technological troglodytes. We're only using the web for important things, like shopping. In fact, one of my dear readers sent me an email about the time she tried to find my Facebook page, so she had her son Google "The Brunette Lucy". </span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">And that's how I found out there's a porn star out there going by the same name. </span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Anyways, here's my stupid Facebook page in the event you're bored & want to scroll thru & read some of the dumb stuff I post (like the above). Just click the link & my big ol' face will show up (my big ol' <b>AIRBRUSHED</b> face)! I'll never be accused of writing the great American novel, but I sure do think of stupid stuff. That counts for something, right? Okay, here's the link:</span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><br /></span>
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/thebrunettelucy" target="_blank"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">The Brunette Lucy</span></a><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Before I let you go, I have to show you the sweetest, most adorable nurse ever in the whole wide world (aside from my daughter, Elyse). Her name is </span>Kyriel Manzo<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"> and she's awesome. She, like Jason (you can see his photo below) work for Dr. Morrissey. Soo, like I always say, if you need a plastic surgeon, see Morrissey. He's a talented surgeon & his staff is the best. </span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Here's Kyriel (with her dog Bruno):</span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a6SfyjnAgXI/UhZi5FDmHBI/AAAAAAAAAuw/Ikfobn9ttyk/s1600/photo(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a6SfyjnAgXI/UhZi5FDmHBI/AAAAAAAAAuw/Ikfobn9ttyk/s320/photo(2).JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"></span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Isn't she adorable??</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">I'll post about my second nipple surgery soon! Then I'll tell you about my visit with Dr. Nakajima (oncologist). I have the most interesting conversations with nurses. Here's a hint - we spoke of undergarments of the steel belted, rearranging your innerds persuasion. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-12132770166895325382013-08-07T19:59:00.000-04:002013-08-07T19:59:38.555-04:00A nipple for Lucy - kind of<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Sorry I haven’t written
for a while! I’ll try to catch you up as best I can.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Before I do, would you
mind including my friend, Stacey Kemmerer, in your prayers? I’m at the end of
my battle, but there are SO many women out there on the battlefield, fighting
the good fight, but needing as much help as they can get. It seriously freaks
me out that cancer hasn’t been eradicated. What with all the foundations
dedicated to finding the cure, you’d think we’d be much farther along in our
understanding of this horrible disease. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Unfortunately, many
charities have lost their way and are using the funds for things that have
nothing to do with cancer research. Susan G. Komen, in MY OPINION (if I don’t
say that, I can get sued – they have tons of lawyers on hand to keep an eye on
people like me. And sue, sue, sue, sue, sue – that should really be their motto
– in my opinion), is the worst. If you learn nothing from this blog, please
know that many, many women who blog about cancer feel the same way about this
organization that should be ashamed of themselves – in my opinion. If you’d
like to read more about them & others, I wrote a four part series for AOL’s
“Patch”. The first two parts were about my experiences with cancer; parts three
and four deal with what many of my blogging sisters refer to as “pinkwashing”.
Here’s the links to those articles:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><a href="http://horsham.patch.com/groups/opinion/p/pinkwashing-pink-ribbon-big-profits" target="_blank">Pink ribbons = bigprofits</a>; and</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://horsham.patch.com/groups/opinion/p/pink-ribbons-profit-for-charities-too" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Pink ribbons = profit forcharities, too</span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Okey doke, I’ll get off my
soap box! On to what’s been going on.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Dr. Morrissey has a new
doctor working with him. His name is Jason Dos </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Santos</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> & he is so freaking sweet! I keep forgetting
to bring my camera to appointments, and I haven’t taken a decent picture with
my Blackberry in, let me think . . . oh, let’s see. When was the last time I
took a decent picture with my phone? Oh, yeah, I know – never. Soooo, I found
his photo on line (if you’re reading this, Jason, please don’t kill me for
putting this up). Here he is:</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fVd9vNWkFic/UgLeLwetesI/AAAAAAAAAuU/UdpC73NwhL0/s1600/Jason+Dos+Santos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fVd9vNWkFic/UgLeLwetesI/AAAAAAAAAuU/UdpC73NwhL0/s1600/Jason+Dos+Santos.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Cute, right?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Okay, back to nipples.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">After the new nipple
surgery, I was feeling pretty awesome. It looked amazing. Dr. Morrissey put a
skin graft on half of it – the top half. Of course, that’s what I see when I’m
looking down, so that was cool. Then he created the nipple mound using what’s
called a “<a href="http://www.breastflap.com/reconstruction-techniques/nipple-reconstruction.cfm" target="_blank">skate flap</a>”. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Before I forget, Dr.
Morrissey said he didn’t think it would hurt much. Now, I consider myself a
seasoned surgical veteran, and hence, a bit of a connoisseur of levels of pain.
I’m also fairly sure that I have a little higher tolerance than most. Much to
my chagrin, I discovered that due to all these surgeries, I’m highly tolerant
of percocet. Which really, really sucks. Anyways, when I saw him for a follow
up visit, I told him to never tell a woman that it doesn't hurt again. Well, I think I might
have said something snarky like, “it hurt, you ass”. I hope not THAT snarky,
but I say so many dumb things, it’s hard to keep them all straight. Anyways,
it’ll hurt because they’re taking skin & fat from other places on your
body. The breast mound has no nerve endings, so there’s no pain there. But I
don’t care who you are, if someone slices off some of your skin, it’s gonna
hurt. And I don’t know why (and I kept forgetting to ask) but my side and a
small area on my stomach was really, really sore for weeks. Sore, however, I
can deal with.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">But I digress.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">For the first week or two,
everything went great. Matt & I even went on a weekend get away to
celebrate our 25 years of marriage; to each other - with all 25 years served consecutively
(giggle).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Then, it began to ooze.
And a small part near the projection site turned green. Originally, I thought
it was infected, but Jason said that my body rejected that portion of the graft
& cut it off. The projection began to look smaller. Then the oozing stopped
and scabs began to form. Then the scabs would fall off, the oozing started
again, and the nipple began to shrink again. Long story short, the projection
is almost nothing. Which really, really sucks. Now don’t get me wrong. Dr.
Morrissey told me that shrinkage was normal and expected. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Gotta be honest, though.
Every time he said that, all I could think of was the “</span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8DoARSlv-HU" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Hamptons</span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;">” episode of “Seinfeld” where Jerry’s girlfriend
walked in after George had been swimming. Shrinkage, baby, shrinkage! “It
shrinks like a frightened turtle”. Apparently, my nipple channeled a frightened
turtle. And soon became little more than a pimple.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">AAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I had the option of having
Dr. Morrissey do a 3-D tattoo. After the nipple had healed, I was going to have
the areola tattooed to match ol’ lefty anyways. But all I could think about was
I could have done that in the first place. So, I’m electing to give it another
try. Tomorrow. If the nipple doesn’t take this time, I’ll just leave it alone
& have the tattoo.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Tonight, I’m getting
things ready for tomorrow’s surgery. I’ll write more, probably this weekend. I’ll
explain what happens after surgery, and what you run around wearing in such a
sensitive area. Curious, now, aren’t you?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I also want to tell you
about the wonderful staff at St. Luke’s Quakertown campus. From checking in to
pre-admission testing, the people are wonderful. I can’t wait to tell you about
Fran, my awesome & beautiful (really) pre-admission nurse. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Talk to you in a few
days!! In the meantime, feel free to leave your comments here. Or, you can “Like”
me on Facebook. Here’s the link to that – <a href="https://www.facebook.com/thebrunettelucy" target="_blank">The Brunette Lucy</a>. I mostly post
stupid stuff, but I also answer anyone who writes to me. Here’s a few examples
of my dumb Facebook posts. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="usercontent">“<i>If you love something, set it free.
If it comes back, it was meant to be...if it doesn't come back it was never
yours to begin with. BUT, if it just sits in your living room, messes up your
stuff, eats all of your food, uses your phone, takes your money and doesn't
appear to realize you set it free...you either married it or gave birth to it!</i></span>”<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="usercontent">“<i>If you’ve gauged huge holes in your
ears and don’t keep Oreo cookies in them for snacks, then what the hell’s the
point?</i></span>”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="usercontent">“<i>A friend took going to jail badly.
He refused all offers of food & drink, spat at people, swore at anyone who
came near him, and smeared the walls with his own feces.</i></span><i><br />
<br />
<span class="usercontent">We are NEVER playing Monopoly again.</span></i>”<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-68242932264069143592013-05-08T21:31:00.001-04:002013-05-08T21:31:34.454-04:00Barbie gets a nipple<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">In case you haven’t heard
me say this before, I call the new boob my Bionic Baby Barbie boob. Bionic
because they built it better; Baby because it’s still really young, and Barbie
because it has no nipple. That’s all going to change tomorrow!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I’m going to St. Luke’s
hospital where Dr. Morrissey will make me a brand new nipple! And, as I’ve
always said, I love Dr. Morrissey, but for some reason, this surgery is making
me nervous. It’s kind of dumb, but there you go. I’ve had a big ol’ slice of my
abdomen & all its fat removed and placed where my old boob used to be (that
was the only time I was happy I had plenty of c-section belly fat!). Two
surgery sites – we’re talking major freaking surgery here, folks. Yet I’m
nervous for this one – go figure.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I’m sidetracking right
now, but I can’t help it. I’m going to confess something that I’m not proud of.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">There’s a really, really
shallow thought running thru my apparently extremely superficial brain which is
really funny when you consider the fact that I’m almost 52 years old. This
stuff shouldn’t be running thru my mind. I should be thinking about support
hose and signing up for the AARP. Well, actually, support hose sounds really
good right about now, I have an invitation to join the AARP on my kitchen
counter, and frankly, a steel belted girdle is on my shopping list. But still.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">As I’ve gotten older, my
stupid skin has a few little red spots that are pissing me off. I’ve been able
to cover them, but when you have surgery, you can’t wear make up! Crap! So
there I’ll be, my big ol’ gut hanging out, hair pushed into one of those oh so
attractive blue beanies, wearing one of those tie in the back “gowns” they give
you that come apart at the first sign of any movement so why bother at all,
with my blotchy, make up free face. I hope there’s no little kids getting
surgery & waiting in the holding tank. I’m enough to scare the living
daylights out of them. I can hear it now, children shrieking, “Mommy, shield me
from the monster!” You know, I think it might behoove the medical establishment
to let old ladies like me wear makeup just to spare them from looking at us. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Just a thought.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Wait, I haven’t adequately
lamented about another thing I hate: pre-operative marking. It’s where the
surgeon marks areas that he’ll be working on; usually done while I’m standing
up. No matter how many times it’s been done to me, it’s still embarrassing.
Maybe if I was a swim suit model or, I don’t know, twenty years old, it
wouldn’t be quite so humiliating. But you get to stand there nekkid except for
panties (and sometimes they’ve been off which is even WORSE) while the doctor
is drawing on you, asking you to turn this way or that, using a sharpie to
create his surgical road map. I know that it’s a good thing & is helpful to
the surgeon. It’s just that when it’s happening to you, there’s no hiding
anything. You’re on display like Honey Boo Boo and her hillbilly clan at a
debutante ball.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">But I guess if I’m being
honest, what’s making this particularly scary for me is what it’s going to look
like. I know Dr. Morrissey is the best, but I’ve looked online at all the
different photos of nipple reconstruction. Gotta tell ya – some look good and
some look like a well used dog’s chew toy. I’m positive mine will be fine, but
those photos are going thru my mind.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">On the bright side, I’m
going to see if I can make Dr. Morrissey “remember” that he <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">said</i> (wink) that he’s going to throw in
a small facelift or under eye surgery. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">A girl can try!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">But the other thing I’m
thinking about tonight is how far I’ve come. It’s been three years of ups &
downs – with a whole lot more downs than ups. Still, there were a lot of ups. I
beat MRSA, survived chemo & radiation, underwent more surgeries than I care
to remember, and have a breast where there wasn’t one. I’ve met wonderful
people, both in the medical field and in doctor’s waiting rooms. I’ve mourned
friends who lost their battle with cancer and am head cheerleader with others
who are still in the throes of the fight.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Right now, I’m almost 2
years cancer free, although there have been two terrifying scares. Once the
bone scan showed what looked like bone cancer, but was really a nick in the
bone that Dr. Topham had made to thread veins. The other was a spot on my liver,
but it turned out to be nothing. I had to undergo an MRI for the liver thing,
and once again confirmed the fact that I’m claustrophobic. Thank God for the
wonderful technicians at St. Luke’s who helped me through all my testing
procedures.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Tomorrow is one step
closer to closing this chapter in my life. Oh, I’ll always be vigilant in
scheduling my scans and there will probably never be a day in my life that I
won’t remember this journey. But I’ll also be thankful for the skilled surgeons
and oncologists that held my hand thru it all. The nurses, CNAs &
administrative staff that call me by name and laugh at my lame jokes hold a
special place in my heart. And like I said, the techs were simply awesome.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">More than anything,
however, I’m grateful for the support of my family and friends, new and old. Jim
Bryan, you’ve been a wonderful surprise and a friend that I’ll treasure
forever. Thank you. And thank you to my Facebook friends who’ve cheered me
& supported me. I wish I could name you all.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I’ve met the most amazing
people who have followed my journey and cheered me on when I was down. I run a
large homeschool group (between 350 & 400 families), and I have to be
honest, I didn’t know all of the members by name. But some ladies who only knew
me as the wacky broad who organizes things, volunteered to bring food to my
house. Many offered to clean my house! Thank you to all of you – I’m forever in
your debt.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And if you’ve read my blog
for any length of time, you know that my best friend is Michele. She’s been
there thru it all – and laughed at me when I was a total dork. She’s
irreplaceable and I’m so thankful I have her. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">My mother in law,
Gretchen, was wonderful. I didn’t share this with you, as it wasn’t mine to
share, but Gretchen battled – and beat – bladder cancer during all of this. Yet
no matter what I needed, she was there. My crazy sister, Theresa, was always on
call – and always ready to help.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">My kids have been awesome.
They chauffeured me to chemo and then daily to radiation treatments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They organized a chart with the list of
medicines I was scheduled to take, and even gave me a bell to ring if I needed
anything. They cleaned the house, learned how to do laundry, and turned out to
be some darn good chefs.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And then there’s my Matt;
my husband of 25 years. No one was blind sided by this disease more than Matt.
I swear, when Dr. Quiros told us that there was no saving my right breast, and
couldn’t tell us how extensive the cancer was or even give a prognosis; I
actually felt the breath come right out of him. He was hit hard, and he was
scared. He was trying to be strong for me, so it hasn’t been until recently
that he’s shared how difficult this has been for him. Trust me, I knew it was
hard; but I can’t imagine the hours he spent in Hell (also known as hospital waiting rooms), waiting for the doctors
to tell him what was going on. We’ve truly been thru this together. And
thankfully, we’re coming out the other side a stronger and more committed
couple.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Finally, thank YOU! You’ve
been reading this blog, & have been keeping me in your prayers. I’m so
lucky and I thank you. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I’ll let you know as soon
as I’m able about what happened. And, you know me, I’ll tell you every detail!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Good night everyone &
thank you so very much.</span></div>
Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-74556329626624969422013-04-19T20:07:00.000-04:002013-04-19T20:07:28.248-04:00Goodbye, my friend<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Yesterday, God welcomed my friend and fellow cancer fighter, Gail Ann Cavallaro, home. She fought hard, but cancer is evil and beat even a strong combatant like Gail. Thankfully, she is no longer in any pain as she sits with the angels tonight. God Bless her family.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LPkjnxuEjlg/UXHbrtYOK-I/AAAAAAAAAsY/micZ82nPsWo/s1600/Gail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LPkjnxuEjlg/UXHbrtYOK-I/AAAAAAAAAsY/micZ82nPsWo/s320/Gail.jpg" width="216" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span>Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-32744958835913888152013-03-27T19:50:00.003-04:002013-03-27T19:50:51.093-04:00And now for something completely different.<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I think the title says it all! I wrote this piece a year or so ago about Easter. Even as I write this, my girls are in the kitchen rolling out sugar cookie dough to make Easter cookies. I'm guessing dying eggs will be Saturday. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">EA<span style="font-size: large;">STER "TALES"</span></span> </span><br />
<br />
<br />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Easter Sunday is next
week, reminding me of the many Easters I’ve spent dying eggs with the kids. I’d
spend hours getting ready for the event; boiling eggs, gathering cups and
preparing the dye. But the most time consuming of all was covering the kitchen
table with newspaper in the event that a cup of dye was spilt. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Oh, who am I kidding;
there was never a question of whether or not a cup would spill. It was just a
matter of time.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">At first, I just covered
the kitchen table, but after the second or third cup of dye hit the floor, it,
too, got covered. Inevitably, as soon as the kids enter the kitchen, the
newspaper that I just spent twenty minutes covering all surfaces within a ten
foot radius, gets strewn everywhere but where I had put it.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I started using tape to
keep the newspaper down. I was especially diligent about taping it to the floor
after I got doused with a cup of dye while crawling on the floor, replacing scattered
newspaper. I now own an outfit solely for dying eggs.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Now that my kids are
teens, I thought for sure they would tire of coloring eggs. They have not. And
I’m sorry to report that even though they’re older, there is still going to be
a dumped cup of dye somewhere. My days of papering the kitchen are not behind
me as I had hoped.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">However, they’ve begun to
get more elaborate in their egg decorating. Through the last few years, I’ve
been instructed to purchase kits that are supposed tie-dye them, make them look
like marble or cover them with glitter. They also enjoy writing in wax pen on
the eggs; sometimes, they’d put appropriate things like crosses or their names.
However, I’ve stumbled upon more than one egg that has written across it things
like, “I would have like to have seen </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Paris</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> before I dyed. Signed, the Egg.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">They also expect treat
filled baskets; not for any sentimental purpose but because they’re kids.
Getting free candy and gifts is not something they give up easily. You’d have
better luck getting an elephant into a Smart car, handing it the keys and asking
it to pick up the Easter Bunny.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">As you’d imagine, however,
the trinkets that find their way into the baskets have gotten smaller, while
the price tag has gotten larger. Most of them require batteries as well and now
cost almost as much as a Smart car.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">When they were little, I
bought huge baskets because they had to hold large stuffed animals or character
dolls. I, whoops, the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Easter Bunny</i>,
stuffed a singing Ariel (from Disney’s “Little Mermaid”), large Little Foot
dinosaurs, and Cookie Monsters inside the baskets. There was also Power Ranger
action figures, a roaring “Simba” from “Lion King”, and a giant blue genie from
“Aladdin” in the baskets at one time or another. I purchased them happily;
until the day Elyse discovered a large purple dinosaur. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">My three year nightmare
began and his name was Barney.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">While the overacting was
perfect for children, parents were banging our heads against the wall. And the
songs; oh the songs. Matt and I took to substituting our own words for the
theme song, “I Love You, You Love Me”; they’re not suitable to write in this
column.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">That being said, I’ll
admit that the show is full of qualities such as teaching children to share,
how to settle an argument using words and other such teaching principles that
parents everywhere want their children to learn. Sometimes parents have to bite
the bullet and take one for the team.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">So, I bought a singing
purple dinosaur and let Easter Bunny put him in Elyse’s basket. They make a new
stuffed Barney every year and the big Bunny kept jamming the oversized beast into
her basket. Thankfully, she grew out of it but the timing couldn’t have been
worse. It was the day after we bought her an expensive interactive Barney doll
that she held once, then tossed into her toy box.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Of course, there was
always an accompanying video to go with each character. And the kids wanted
them every bit as much as they wanted the doll.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I don’t know who loved the
videos more, though – the kids or me. I loved to watch as the kids would clutch
their beloved character while they watched the movie for the hundredth time. I
believe that seeing their little faces reflect the emotion on the screen, or
listen as they sang along to every song is a gift that parents everywhere
treasure. In fact, whenever a new Disney movie came out, we’d take the kids.
But I never saw it; I was too busy watching my babies’ faces in the dark
instead. And I don’t know whose heart broke more when the sad part came; them
as they cried, or me as I held their hand. Those are memories that you cherish
for the rest of your life; even the tears.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">This year, as we decorate
eggs, I’m going to remember when they were little, and keep those memories
close to my heart forever. But I’m also going to tuck the new memories made
with my teens into my mental scrapbook, and keep them as treasured as the
memories we made years ago. This time, too, will pass quickly.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Besides, how many more
times in my life will I run across Easter eggs that say, “Eat beef, not chicken!”
or “$500 reward for E. Bunny – see Chicken Little.”</span></div>
Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-40018126635838960812013-03-26T20:30:00.000-04:002013-03-26T20:30:41.935-04:00Oh, boy - just shoot me now<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I have good news &
some disconcerting news to share. I’m going to start with the good news.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I met with my original
booby daddy, Dr. Morrissey last week, March 13<sup>th</sup>. It was awesome to
see him. In case you don’t remember, here’s his picture:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XsYtOpt0I9I/SvOu3nbuSCI/AAAAAAAAAIw/04pAQtewPQc/s1600/Dr.+Morrissey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XsYtOpt0I9I/SvOu3nbuSCI/AAAAAAAAAIw/04pAQtewPQc/s1600/Dr.+Morrissey.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">(cute, isn't he??) </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><!--[if !mso]><img src="//img2.blogblog.com/img/video_object.png" style="background-color: #b2b2b2; " class="BLOGGER-object-element tr_noresize tr_placeholder" id="ieooui" data-original-id="ieooui" />
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I love Dr. Morrissey; he’s
always made me feel like he wasn’t rushing me. He answered all my (often times
dumb) questions without making me feel like I was mentally deficient. I’m never
nervous when he’s operating on me – you can’t buy that. So if you’re looking
for the best plastic surgeon in the entire </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Lehigh</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Valley</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">, heck, the entire state, consider seeing Dr. Morrissey. Here’s his
information:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Dr. W. Michael Morrissey,
Jr.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">1213
Main Street</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Hellertown</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">, </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">PA</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">18055</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">610.838.7638</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">He has offices in
Quakertown & Bethlehem, too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It’s not just me that
loves the living daylights out of Dr. Morrissey! I met a woman this past week
who handed her 6 week old baby over to him for surgery (he needed quite a few).
She, too, couldn’t imagine a better, more competent doctor who inspired
confidence. I mean, really, you can’t get a more glowing recommendation than a
mom who’ll hand her baby over to a doctor several times with no reservations. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Did I mention that Dr.
Morrissey is the best? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">After the original
mastectomy, he put tissue expanders in. Then MRSA reared its ugly head, & I
was in & out of surgery 4 more times. The final time was an extended stay
in the hospital where they kept the wound open, packed and cleaned it twice a
day. That was horrible, but it kicked the MRSA out, so there’s that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Unfortunately, the MRSA
ate the tissue expander, and when the ordeal was finally over (a few months),
Dr. Morrissey felt that I should see a micro surgeon for reconstruction, which
I did. Dr. Neal Topham of </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Fox</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Chase</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Cancer</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Center</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> did a good job of making my bionic (they built it
better), baby (brand spanking new), Barbie (no nipple) boob – my bionic baby
Barbie boob! It’s time, however, to end its status as Barbie, because we’re
fixin’ to slap a nipple on that bad boy & call it a day. I have surgery
scheduled for the second week in May – or do I?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Here’s where the crappy
part comes in. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I went to see a
gynecologist on Tuesday, Dr. Patriarco. Turns out, since I had breast cancer
before age 50, my chances of getting ovarian cancer are about 87%. Throw in the
fact that there’s either uterine or ovarian cancer in my family, & I hit
the genetics jackpot. I either may already have it, or I’ll more certainly get
it. Guess who wants to yank those bad boys out? I also want them to take out
the rest of the plumbing. Like I’ve said a lot recently – they’re about as
useful as screen doors on a submarine.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The doctor took my blood
& has sent it to a genetics lab out west. They’ll determine if I carry
something called a BRCA1 or BRCA2 gene. There’s a lot to explain about it, but
since I want to get this up, I’ll just post the link <a href="http://www.cancer.gov/cancertopics/factsheet/Risk/BRCA" target="_blank">here</a>. Suffice it to say, I’m
hoping I don’t carry the gene, but more for my girls than for me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I’ll keep you posted as
surgeries get scheduled. Gotta say, though, I’m getting really tired of my
reproductive system trying to kill me!</span></div>
<br />
<br />Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-14366889980588275962013-02-11T19:24:00.000-05:002013-02-11T19:24:04.934-05:00Moving on . . . . <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">As you may know, I've
written my humor column that ran in over 20 cities for AOL's Patch over 2 years.
In fact, if you scroll down, you can read my indictment of the pink ribbon
marketing bonanza which was a departure from my normal silliness. I tapped into
my old job as a journalist to expose the massive amounts of money being made by
simply slapping a pink ribbon on some product or another. The biggest problem
is that miniscule amounts of money were donated to any charity or went to help
cancer patients. Most of the money was pure profit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a
big fan of making money. But I detest when it’s done based on tapping into
humanity’s innate desire to help and it’s even more despicable when it’s made
from the suffering of others.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I haven’t decided whether
I despise the corporations who slap that pink ribbon on their product and paint
the town pink for “Pinktober” or the charities that claim to be helping women
like me (cough, Komen, cough, cough). One of the worst charities, in my
opinion, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">is</b> Komen, who barely spent
17% of their earnings from the pink ribbon marketing cash cow to anything
remotely helpful. Worse, their signature fragrance had ingredients directly
linked to causing breast cancer. Helpful little bunch, wouldn’t you say? But,
like I said, you can scroll down to read the series. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I’ve changed direction,
and am finally writing my book. It’s tentatively called, “My Heels are Alive
(and are trying to kill me)”. I’m almost done – woo hoo! So that’s another
reason I haven’t been writing for y’all with any regularity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I’d LOVE it if you’d connect
with me on Facebook. If you “like” my fan page (just click on the name & it'll take you to FB & my page), <a href="https://www.facebook.com/thebrunettelucy" target="_blank">Tamara Kells, The Brunette Lucy</a>, you’ll be
able to interact with me much easier than here on the blog. Although I thank
you for all your emails! I can’t tell you how much I looked forward to hearing
from you. There were days when I was sick, others that I was depressed, and I’d
see that one of you sent me a letter. It was the most awesome thing – it’s hard
to put it into words. Thank you seems trite. Still, it’s the only way to
express my feelings about you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Thank you.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">If you feel inclined, come
over & visit me on Facebook! I look forward to reading whatever you have to
say.</span></div>
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Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-91354430920209844792012-11-01T20:34:00.002-04:002012-11-01T20:34:58.137-04:00Pink Ribbon = Big Profits<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The first part of my expose about the big money being made in the name of breast cancer and the pink ribbon is up. You can read it here:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<a href="http://horsham.patch.com/articles/pinkwashing-pink-ribbon-big-profits" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Pink Ribbon = Big Profits</span></a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The second part is this Sunday, where I take on Komen, Planned Parenthood, "Save the Boobies" campaigns and Pinktober. Here's a sneak peak at the photo the paper is letting me use:</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-woVXMX3eWL8/UJMU_5wzhII/AAAAAAAAArs/r4ngjgc0oXY/s1600/Breast+cancer+collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-woVXMX3eWL8/UJMU_5wzhII/AAAAAAAAArs/r4ngjgc0oXY/s320/Breast+cancer+collage.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
<br />Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-1848486253276281112012-10-23T17:48:00.000-04:002012-10-23T17:48:24.344-04:00Last installment on Patch!<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The final installment of my long battle with breast cancer is up. Here's one of the cities that carry it:</span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://lowersouthampton.patch.com/articles/my-battle-with-breast-cancer-radiation-and-reconstruction" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">My Battle with Breast Cancer: Radiation & Reconstruction</span></a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">And like I've promised, this weekend, I'm going to tackle what me & other breast cancer survivors have taken to calling the "pinkwashing" of America. I hope you'll read that.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">If you've been reading me for any length of time, you know that I'm never political or controversial. That being said, we're gearing up to elect a president in November. If you have decent insurance, please check with them about what will happen if Obamacare goes into effect as it's written. I know that my doctors have told me that they're worried about whether or not they'll be able to continue to take medicare patients - that's just one of the many concerns. The claim that you'll still have your doctor is just that - a claim. PLEASE, check with your doctor, your hospital, your insurance company to be sure that you'll still be seeing them if Obamacare is implemented in its entirety. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">When Obama's website told me to "vote with my lady parts", I'm taking him up on that. My biggest lady part is my brain; which I plan to use to vote. Him out.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span><br />
<br />Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-42605504356855479002012-10-14T20:19:00.002-04:002012-10-14T23:50:54.859-04:00Chemo story is live - preview of last in the series.<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The <span style="font-size: small;">la<span style="font-size: small;">test in my story about my breast cancer jo<span style="font-size: small;">urney is u<span style="font-size: small;">p! You can read it here:</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://lowersouthampton.patch.com/articles/my-battle-with-breast-cancer-chemotherapy-sucks" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">My Battle with Breast Cancer<span style="font-size: small;">; Chemotherapy Sucks!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Next week, I'll go into <span style="font-size: small;">radiation & reconstruction. I still have another procedure until I'm all done. Also, I'm going to have Dr. Morrissey take a look at the girls - I still think they're not matched very well. So, I'll be doing that at the beginning the the year (insurance reasons - ugh).</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">The last installment <span style="font-size: small;">for Patch is going to be a little dicey. I've asked, an<span style="font-size: small;">d was given the okay, to write about what I & many of my breast cancer sisters hate - the <span style="font-size: small;">"Pinkwashing of America". In October, companies turn <span style="font-size: small;">everything pink<span style="font-size: small;"> - even the most ridiculous things turn pink. Did you know a porno<span style="font-size: small;">grapher has sent out mass emails to folks, promising <span style="font-size: small;">to donate to <span style="font-size: small;">some cancer charity <span style="font-size: small;">for every page view he gets? I mean, really? Have these people no shame?</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">What most of the wonderful people who purchase the<span style="font-size: small;"> often times pricier name brand goods <span style="font-size: small;">because they<span style="font-size: small;">'re helping the cause don't know<span style="font-size: small;"> is that the amount that goes to charity is paltry - at be<span style="font-size: small;">st. All companies have a p<span style="font-size: small;">re-determined amount of money th<span style="font-size: small;">at they'll donate - period. So, after they've met the almost always minuscule amount, the rest of the month<span style="font-size: small;">, <span style="font-size: small;">the money <span style="font-size: small;">good people have paid goe<span style="font-size: small;">s nowhere but the pockets of the compan<span style="font-size: small;">ies and their share holders.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">PLEASE DON'T GET ME WRONG! I<span style="font-size: small;"> do not begrudge companies mak<span style="font-size: small;">ing a profit!! In fact, I'm very p<span style="font-size: small;">ro-<span style="font-size: small;">capitalism. What I DO object to is making that <span style="font-size: small;">money by pretending to be donating big sums of money to a charity<span style="font-size: small;"> & <span style="font-size: small;">using the <span style="font-size: small;">suffering of others to<span style="font-size: small;"> profit. And pro<span style="font-size: small;">fit they do. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I also have a problem with October being <span style="font-size: small;">breast cancer month. What about all the other equally deadly cancers out there? I know that some have their months, but nothing like breast cancer. I'm well a<span style="font-size: small;">ware that I <span style="font-size: small;">benefited from having such a "trendy" cancer; but what about others?</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I was<span style="font-size: small;"> having insurance problems, and<span style="font-size: small;"> while speaking to the b<span style="font-size: small;">illing department at St. Luke's, I "met" a lovely woman<span style="font-size: small;">, Diane, who went out of her way to <span style="font-size: small;">help. During our conversation, I found out that she had beate<span style="font-size: small;">n colon cancer. I<span style="font-size: small;"> couldn't help but thin<span style="font-size: small;">k, wow; what about her? I mean, seriously, colon<span style="font-size: small;"> cancer is every bit <span style="font-size: small;">as <span style="font-size: small;">deadly, but it's also not quite so . . is the word "attractive"? A<span style="font-size: small;">t <span style="font-size: small;">the very least, it<span style="font-size: small;"> wasn't tr<span style="font-size: small;">endy. I wondered how she felt every October, when the world is practically c<span style="font-size: small;">elebrating breast cancer. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">There's <span style="font-size: small;">so much more, & what I can't fit in<span style="font-size: small;">to my limited space for the paper, I'll write here. I just want people to be aware <span style="font-size: small;">that buying something pink doesn't guarantee that much money is being donated<span style="font-size: small;">. A<span style="font-size: small;">nd these days, <span style="font-size: small;">many of us are st<span style="font-size: small;">rugg<span style="font-size: small;">ling to make ends meet. If you're <span style="font-size: small;">in the grocery store, looking at so<span style="font-size: small;">up, and you normally buy generic - please buy it!! Don't let that pink can fool you or make you feel guilty for purchasing the generic version. I love it that so many of you are so kind hearted and generous; and sadly, <span style="font-size: small;">advertisers are counting o<span style="font-size: small;">n it.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">And now, <span style="font-size: small;">for something completely different!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the event you didn't see the video my kids made for me that was embedded in the Patch article, here's that link:</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=g6QNiPBZY1o" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Hat Song</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></a><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">If you noticed, there's a Peeta standee in the video; <span style="font-size: small;">because my kids were crazy about that movie, The Hunger Games. So<span style="font-size: small;">,<span style="font-size: small;"> I<span style="font-size: small;"> found this <span style="font-size: small;">photo; which I love!<span style="font-size: small;"> Thankfully, they have good senses of humour! Here it is:</span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NzKeis9xilQ/UHtVLC-BncI/AAAAAAAAAqw/45L3mgyLMAs/s1600/hungry+hungry+games.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NzKeis9xilQ/UHtVLC-BncI/AAAAAAAAAqw/45L3mgyLMAs/s320/hungry+hungry+games.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Hungry, Hungry Hippo Games!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> May the paddle be ever in your favour! </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> <br />
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<a href="http://lowersouthampton.patch.com/articles/my-battle-with-breast-cancer-the-mastectomy" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The Mastectomy</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Also, you'll see a video attached to the article. A group called, "Strangely Attractive" performed a song & asked for permission to make a slide show of the faces of breast cancer. Their bassist, Chris Gongora wrote the song for his cousin who passed from the disease. I was fortunate to be one of the faces of a survivor. </span>Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-10563920269060225282012-10-04T14:49:00.000-04:002012-10-04T14:49:44.944-04:00Sharing this journey on Patch<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Before I get started, I wanted to share the photo of my oncologist, Dr. Nakajima. Here he is:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">He's so very, very kind!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I've decided to share my journey with my Patch readers. Of course, I can't go into the detail that I've shared with you here in my blog, but hopefully I can get women to get mammograms. The first installment is called, "<a href="http://horsham.patch.com/articles/my-battle-with-breast-cancer" target="_blank">My Battle with Breast Cancer</a>". I know, not the catchy titles, but my editor, Theresa, is smart. She words titles in a way that will get internet readers to find it. I'll post the second part here when it's out on Sunday. Let's just say that I'm a little more descriptive in how I was feeling. In other words, I share the battle with darkness that one wages when confronted with something like this. Sometimes, the darkness wins.</span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hfhWpp73VQg/UG3PmG1tgFI/AAAAAAAAAp8/reLo3G9PL-4/s1600/completely+different.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hfhWpp73VQg/UG3PmG1tgFI/AAAAAAAAAp8/reLo3G9PL-4/s1600/completely+different.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">If you've been reading this for any length of time, you know that I dislike October's designation as breast cancer awareness month. And, yes, I know that sounds odd. But the reason I'm uncomfortable is two fold. First, why does any month have to be designated for one particular cancer? In my journey, I've met people with other cancers, who have no specific month designated for them. I've met colon cancer patients, a friend has pancreatic cancer, and my mother in law beat bladder cancer. While my cancer may be trendy, but still deadly, theirs is every bit as deadly. They just don't get the benefit of it being trendy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The second reason I don't like this month is that it's the Holy Grail of months for manufacturers of all types of products. Everything turns pink for an entire month. Don't get me wrong - I love the colour pink. Always have (as evidenced by the prominent colour of this blog!). But just because the label on a can of soup is pink, doesn't mean that anything is being donated. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I was at the grocery store, and as I walked in, there were giant photos of cakes & other pastries with pink ribbons all over them. Words like "hope" & stuff were printed under them. When I looked closer, there was no small print. There was nothing saying that any proceeds of these festively decorated cupcakes went to anything - other than the pocket of the grocer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Something else I'll bet you didn't know. Even those that donate proceeds to charity have a preset cap; in other words, they decide how much of the proceeds are going to the charity that they've chosen before the campaign gets under way. After that cap is met, the rest of the proceeds is pure profit. And here's why that irritates me - the cap is usually some paltry number, say, $250,000. While that may seem like a lot, during the month of October, the sales of all things pink bring in millions. All purchased by wonderful people, thinking that their hard earned money, and their decision to pay more for the pink product, are doing something. The odds are, after the first day of October, the cap has been met. The manufacturers are now left with 30 days of huge profits.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Don't get me wrong - I think businesses have every right to profit. I don't begrudge a company their money. I DO, however, begrudge it when it's done in deceitful ways & profits from the suffering of others. If companies are truly concerned about fighting breast cancer, then let them donate a proceed of the profits without a cap. Then, I could get behind them. As it is, that will never happen. There's just way too much money to be made off the pink ribbon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I'll post a link to part two of my story on Patch on Sunday. Until then, I hope that you will: </span><br />
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<br />Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-51463909407845405822012-08-09T11:07:00.000-04:002012-08-09T11:07:03.728-04:00Tamoxifen?<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Today, I go see Dr. Nakajima, my oncologist. I've been taking Tamoxifen for the almost past 2 years. However, he needs to see if I've become menopausal; if I have, then we need to change the meds I take. I have to say - I highly doubt that I am. Ever since going off the Tamoxifen, my endometriosis is worse, & I've been in a lot of pain. This is driving me crazy! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The thing is, from everything I've read, the Tamoxifen should have been making the endo worse, instead of helping to keep it in check. Another case of my body not reacting the way it should. Add that to still have neuropathy issues, and these last weeks have been hell. I can't WAIT until cancer is done with me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I'll let you know what happens today, but probably tomorrow. My column is due today, and I only have it half way done. Yikes! </span>Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-19625722508917768222012-06-25T17:51:00.000-04:002012-06-25T17:51:23.453-04:00Relay for Life Part One<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">As I mentioned in my last
update (what, two, three weeks ago? – yikes!), was invited to </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">New Hope</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> to speak at a Relay for Life event. Gotta tell
ya’, I’m OK at speaking when it comes to my work or at homeschool functions.
Speaking – out loud – about my experience with cancer was odd. And I know
you’re thinking that I’ve pretty much lost my mind; I’ve told you every little
thing that’s happened along this journey of mine. But there’s a difference – a
dumb one, but a difference nonetheless.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I was asked to speak about
it in my capacity as a columnist with AOL’s Patch, who I write for. I was
concerned because I didn’t want to be known as that breast cancer survivor who
writes a humor column for Patch. I want to be known as the humor columnist, who
also happened to beat breast cancer. That may sound like one and the same, but
not to me & my addled brain. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Now, here’s the REALLY
weird catch – I wouldn’t have been asked to speak had I not spilled my battle
with cancer to my readers at Patch. I never once considered sharing this journey
with Patch readers. Like I said, I wanted to keep both things separate. For
some reason, though, on Mother’s Day, I felt a need to write about it. If you’d
like to read the article, click <a href="http://warminster.patch.com/articles/a-different-kind-of-mother-s-day" target="_blank">here</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I have no idea why, I have
no idea that the timing would prove significant, I just <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">knew</i> it was time to tell my story to my Patch readers. I have a
strong faith in God; you simply can’t go through the type of Hell that I went
through without either having it strengthened or forging the beginnings of that
faith. For me, it was simply a natural progression in my journey. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Don’t get me wrong; I had
days when I railed against God. More specifically, when I was enduring my third
surgery for the MRSA infection I contracted during the mastectomy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And even more so when I was in the hospital
for almost a week with the wound kept open, having the packed bandages changed
twice a day, and watching a beautiful snow fall outside my window. I was so
lonely, because my family & I love snow storms. We pop corn, light a fire,
and watch as the snow drifts to the ground, turning the world into a magical
wonderland. I was angry as I sat in my hospital bed alone, knowing that my
family was home, missing me there with them. Thankfully, it was a hissy fit and
I got over it. You really kind of have to put it into perspective – I was
ALIVE. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Alive. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Many women didn’t survive
this disease, and the odds were even worse for women who had it at the stage I
did. I still have demons I battle, and I’ll tell you more about them. But for
right now, I’ve digressed – big time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">So, due to my decision to
share my battle with my Patch readers, Linda Pickett saw it and asked me to
come and speak.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I’ve never been to a Relay
for Life event before. I’m just now getting mobile again, in between
reconstruction surgeries. But I was impressed by the people there. We walked
around, and saw all the tents that were pitched. The camaraderie was palpable.
Still, I’ll be honest, I was uneasy. Goes back to that whole keeping my
identity separate. Hey, I’m a super hero in my own mind – keeping my two
identities separate. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Come on, give me a break –
I’m old. I can have delusions of grandeur once in a while, can’t I?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Part Two, where I tell you all about the awesome people I met there, coming by the weekend!!</span></div>Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-9807584221893743142012-06-02T22:52:00.000-04:002012-06-02T22:52:06.649-04:00Relay for Life - New Hope<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Today, I went to New Hope to speak at the American Cancer Society Relay for Life at the invitation of Linda Pickett. She'd read my article "<a href="http://horsham.patch.com/articles/a-different-kind-of-mother-s-day" target="_blank">Different Kind of Mother's Day</a>" in Patch. I had an amazing time & have lots to tell you about. I'm going to have to do it tomorrow, though, as I'm so, so tired. Plus, since I was operated on recently on my left boob, it's bothering me. I also have pictures to go thru, plus I met an AMAZING musician, Abraham Weaver (<a href="mailto:aweavermusic@yahoo.com">aweavermusic@yahoo.com</a>), his wife and their daughter. I'll be giving his specifics out as well, since I think he I & his beautiful family are awesome.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Will post photos tomorrow! In the meantime, good night. And good night to all those wonderful people who are spending the night in tents at New Hope-Solebury High School tonight as part of the 24 hour Relay for Life. God Bless them all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Oh, & Jack, you were one of the highlights of my day! Thank you. </span>Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4664276933426022044.post-19786555309059358282012-05-21T22:30:00.000-04:002012-05-21T22:30:09.307-04:00Second surgery on ol' lefty is done!I had surgery on ol’ lefty Thursday morning; round 2. If you’ve been reading me, then you know that I had a mastectomy on the right breast, and what I teasingly call a “half-ectomy” on the left. Due to the area where they took the lump from the left side, the nipple pointed down and to the left. And, no, I promise I won’t tell any more jokes about it being all embarrassed, and how the “twins” are fighting with each other & making my life intolerable.<br />
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Anyway, they did a breast lift, and so far, it looks like it’s evened the girls up. Next, after I heal, they’ll put a nipple on the bionic, baby Barbie boob. Hopefully, that’s IT for surgeries due to this damned disease!<br />
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I have to be honest – I’m a little surprised by how painful this was. Dr. Topham had said that the implant surgery (the first to try to even me out) was more painful, so I was taken by surprise. After the last implant surgery, I needed additional pain meds, so I decided to be pro-active this time. I asked them to write for more, since they can’t phone them in. Plus, it’s an hour & 15 minute drive to the doctor’s office in Philly, & I wasn’t in the mood to make that trip for a prescription – even if I was really hurting. I tried to make the original script last, but honestly, it was difficult. I was happy that I’d asked for the additional medicine; we filled it. But, on the bright side, I don’t think I’ll be needing all of it for this surgery. I should be good by Wednesday & just be on aspirin.<br />
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The reason I bring this up is that I NEVER ask for more medicine before going home from surgery. I usually try to make do with whatever I’ve been given – and I’ve suffered. I guess I’m finally at the point where I’ve had more surgeries than I care to have had in the past two & a half years. I’m to the point where I know myself, and I know the possibilities of how much I’m going to suffer. I’m done doing it. And that’s why I’m telling you about it.
If YOU, like me, have been mousy about asking for help with pain – knock it off! This stuff hurts and it’s no picnic. You’re not going to become a junky; don’t feel ashamed for asking for medicine. If you need to reach for a pill – reach for it. Don’t let the stigma of taking narcotics make you suffer.<br />
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The road we’ve traveled has been hard, difficult, hopeful, sometimes funny, often times frustrating, terrifying, full of inspirational people as well as those that aren’t quite so inspirational, sometimes silly, frequently embarrassing, and the list goes on. We’ve experienced more emotions in a few years than some people experience in their lives. Heck, our loved ones have experienced them as well, no matter how hard we try to shield them. Please don’t add misery without help intrude on an already difficult journey. Speak up!<br />
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I hope that if you’re just starting out on this journey, this blog has been helpful. I hope I’ve told you what to expect as you go on. I hope that you know you aren’t alone. I hope that if you need to reach out, you’ll contact me. If not me, someone. This is not a journey that is best taken alone.<br />
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But most of all, I hope that I’ve given you a small bit of comfort, and maybe a smile. Laugh when you glue your eyes together <a href="http://thebrunettelucy.blogspot.com/2010/05/aye-aye-ayelashes-lucy.html" target="_blank">trying on a pair of false eyelashes</a> or when you almost blind yourself trying to take a <a href="http://thebrunettelucy.blogspot.com/2010/08/mascaras-magic-wand.html" target="_blank">picture of them growing in</a>. Giggle the first time your wig goes askew or flies off in a good wind. If something strikes you funny while you’re sitting at chemo, laugh! Strike up a conversation with those around you; I did. And boy, did I meet some amazing women and heard some fascinating stories.<br />
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No matter what, life is what we make of it. This cancer thing sucks – hard. And it isn’t easy. Still, I hope that as you go on, you find the humor in it. It gets better. I’m living proof.Tamara Kellshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17171853584741121219noreply@blogger.com0