Percocet perceptions & The most important part of your cancer treatment

HOWDY! It's nearing midnight, day of surgery. I was floored by the number of people who've been reading my blog lately -- and the number of people who care about me. You'd think I'd grasp that, but clearly I need many years of therapy to understand that I have a really great community.

This is probably the most important thing in cancer treatment: finding your village.

I didn't find my village early on enough with my babies. I refused help, partly because of Postpartum Depression & Anxiety. I refused help because most things in my life had come easily to me, but parenting did not. I didn't want the world to know that I needed help to do the one thing that should have been instinctive. (I understand now how silly that was.)

I found my village big-time when my mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer. That village expanded when my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer the same day we enrolled Mom in hospice care. I am an only child. My parents were non-confrontational, passive folks. They were wildly supportive, but they also didn't help me with homework or projects or college applications.

Or maybe I told them: I can do it myself.

Let's face it, those were probably my first words. (Actual first words were "Go Cubs Go!" according to the baby book I found recently while going through a zillion boxes.)

I can do it myself.

As a child, it represented strength. I didn't need a man to open a jar of jam. I can do it myself. I didn't need anyone else to design the show poster: I can do it myself. Even today I'm homeschooling my kids because virtual school wasn't working and because, well, I can do it myself.

But do you know what I cannot do myself? Deal with cancer treatment.

If you're out there, and you're going through a horrible time like I am, do yourself a favor and find your village. More importantly, SAY YES, when they offer to do things. I'm still bad at this, but I'm learning to take a deep breath and say yes. 

Been reading this blog for years? Maybe it's time to join my Patreon community! It's very cheap if you want it to be. A thousand people read this blog, but I only have 140 patrons:) Join up, please. Maybe I'll send you a postcard.

Saying yes is a challenge, but I'm up for it. And I'm so grateful for it - for you. For the meals and the gifts and the crafts and books for my kids, who have had the weirdest four years ever, watching their grandparents die awful, slow deaths, and then on the anniversary of their grandmother's death, their own mother got a cancer diagnosis. 

My heart breaks for them, but it also is growing. Because I see so many people out there willing to step in - to buy a surprise book for the kids or volunteer to take them to the park (not recently because COVID but you get the point). The amount of "aunties" and "grandparents" they have is growing, and I love it for them. My parents would have loved to watch their grandkids grow, but I'm so grateful that other people have stepped in to be there for them. My children are loved beyond measure.

I came downstairs this morning expecting
to find them sneaking iPad time.
Nope: READING to each other.

I cannot do it myself. And that's okay.


  • I had surgery this afternoon. I came home right after, and I'm on Percocet and the lingering effects of anesthesia. I should be asleep right now, but I felt like writing. I'm also trying to stay up so i can take another pain pill, then go to sleep right away. 
  • The surgeon did a less-invasive procedure than expected. He was going to go under the muscle, but changed his mind after seeing what my previous surgeon had done. In an effort to make it look right (and "perky" his words haha), he put the implant over the muscle. That means my pec is not distressed, and my healing time will only be around 2 weeks. The implant feels so much better than the tissue expander.
  • I feel pretty good right now.
  • The boys are very excited that they get lots of screen time tomorrow because Mommy's sick and Daddy's working. Classic COVID day.
  • I'm blown away by the support you've given me --nagain. I feel guilty about the Amazon wishlist, but not guilty enough to post the link. I have one voice yelling at me "that's tacky," and another voice yelling at me "Say yes. People want to help you. Let them." Much of my wishlist is art supplies, which is amazing. I'm on bedrest, but my right arm isn't affected. I'll be making art non-stop from bed, and I will have the tools to do it right. THANK YOU.
  • I am desperate for a STAGE. Any empty stages out there want to allow me in alone to do a livestream? Oh, if you're reading this and didn't know I'm a musician, click here to learn more :)

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