Breast Cancer and Other News Update

It’s been a while. I feel like it’s been an eternity. It’s been months at least. And that’s because cancer treatments kick your ass.

No, really.

I’m not sure if you’re aware of it, but it the treatments that’ll kill ya. Seriously, the business of fighting for your life against a vicious disease is a hard battle. And I am fatigued. But I am coming out of the fog.

My hair is the shortest it’s been since I decided I wanted to be a buddhist monk at 3 or 4 and had my mom shave my head. I tried to keep it, y’all. And if my chemo had not been the worst, most dangerous and strongest chemo around- they call it the red devil, if that tells you anything- I would’ve kept most of it. As it was, I kept about 25%. It just simply looked too terrible not to shave off into a boy cut and go all Audrey Hepburn.

Cold capping works. It just doesn’t work very well if you do the chemo I did. And then if you have a semi-formal event- like a college graduation that you can’t miss because it’s your oldest child and you wouldn’t miss that shit even if you were bald on the head and hairy on the leg- that you must attend without a baseball cap. So you go and get a nice short do. And proudly wear that shit to your son’s graduation. Proud and loud, bitches. I beat cancer.

I did. For right now. Cancer always comes back. They don’t talk about that. But it comes back. What you want is for it to not come back for a really long time, like 15 years or more. But my body scans tell the docs I have no other cancer hot spots. And the chemo plus radiation treatment plan kills rogue cells which have broken off and might be roaming free.

It’s been 5 weeks post radiation. The black skin is all gone off my chest. And almost all gone off my back. Soon, I will be back to my old self. Well, without one boob. And with a wicked fucking abdomen scar. But with my life. And my brain in tact. Not that my noggin has been much help lately. Chemo brain is REAL, yo. But slowly, I am coming back.

I attended a Master Class with Alexandra Sokoloff this past weekend. It was awesome. Got my creative brain and juices flowing. And I wrote the most words I’ve written since I started this whole cancer saga.

Anyway, here’s my new do. Hopefully, my hair grows quickly. And I am so glad this whole no hair thing happened now. If this had happened back when I was younger, I think I would’ve been completely devastated. As it is now, short hair is just another thing. I’m alive. And that is all that matters.

And here’s hoping I have many more words this week. And I want to do an update on my erotic gothic thriller story. I’ve got some ideas.

Now. I need to go write. And take supplements to try and get these strands GROWING!

Romance, Erotic Gothic Horror, and Breast Cancer

I’ve been writing over at a group blog for the past year, so I haven’t done a full post in a while. Well, shit just got real, y’all.

First off. I’m writing a serialized erotic gothic horror over on the Romance on the Rocks blog. Well, gothic-like. Mostly, it’s set in the deep American South. Which if you think about it could be gothic horror inspired in some respects. I won’t have completely open doors because we have an all age readership over there. So, I will be using all the tools in my tool box to be erotic without showing erotic. What I might do is a companion open door portion of that story over here on my main blog. Ummm, I might have a few details to work out before September 15. I’m still gelling it in my mind so until I have all the deets finalized, I know about as much as you, dear reader.

Second, I have the cancer. Breast cancer to be exact. And no, I don’t know much more than that. I knew when I went in for the limp that something was wrong. And I prayed and hoped it was a cyst or benign in some other way. It wasn’t. So, I’m having a pity party for a day and then I’m going to get back up the next day and kick cancer’s ass.

If you know me at all, you know I don’t want any body work done. Living in LA and seeing the enormous amount of body work people got done just because really turned me off. I wanted to age gracefully. To show our young women that there is grace in aging. Or least, some semblance of it. I don’t color the gray right out of my hair. I have killer bright silver hair that looks like kick ass highlights, or at least, tinsel. I love it. And I also felt this way about the rest of my aging body. My tits have fed children. OF course, they sag. They’re supposed to at this point. But they’re still fabulous.

Well, until they betrayed me. I won’t know a treatment plan until I go see the boob doc for the first time. I haven’t decided anything yet. But the thought of getting fake boobs makes me sad. Even if I didn’t get them because I wanted, I’m getting them because I need to. Mentally that doesn’t matter. I still feel like my original life plan of aging gracefully has been stolen from me.

But I swear that I won’t let cancer not one more piece of me than I can safely allow.

Still, I will need some words of encouragement. And some patience. Because I have a feeling that a couple of my serialized installments might be late. I will write as long as I am able. If I can’t, I won’t. But writing has helped my sanity so immensely that I will cling to it like the life line it is.

Patience and Love.

What else does anyone need?

Well, maybe a little romance.

p.s. Go get your breasts squished. Go get checked out. Even if it’s for no reason. Don’t listen to anyone else. Listen to me. It might save your life.