Bipolar Disorder and Breast Cancer

Bipolar Disorder and Breast Cancer….

They both run in my family.

Last year my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer and opted for a double mastectomy. We were all very thankful that her decision has led her to be cancer free since. Yay, Mom!

But there are others in my family that have (or had) breast cancer and are being faced with that same tough decision.

I know it cannot be easy.

But thankfully, one thing that there is never a shortage of is people out there supporting/advocating/fundraising/walking/wearing pink and doing all sorts of awesome things for breast cancer awareness, research, treatment, etc. There are a bajillion support groups and a whole month dedicated to this disease in which you will see athletes and actors donning pink for this cause. It’s awesome.

Trust me, I did not come here to badmouth breast cancer supporters or advocates- they are some amazing people.

No, what I came here to do was to talk about a realization that I had last year. You see, my mom’s cancer scare garnished me a lot of sympathy/empathy. People went out of their way to make sure I was ok, mom was ok, our family was ok.  There was just so much support.

But the thing is, for almost my entire life my mother has been sick. She has been battling (and currently kicking its ass) bipolar disorder since I was just a wee one. It was not an easy road for her. It’s easier now, but it will always be a battle. And my mom is a freaking rock star. And I have learned so much about strength, courage, compassion and love from her. She has been through so much- she is the epitome of what it means to be a fighter.

But, from what I have experienced, people don’t have the same type of sympathy/empathy for someone living with a mental illness as they do for someone battling cancer. Why is that?

I can blame the stigma that still exists that allows people to believe that ‘crazy’ people are scary/danger to society/should be avoided at all costs.

I can blame the media for their often misguided representations of mental illness

I can blame the schizophrenic homeless man on the street that keeps yelling at passerbys because he is living in an alternate reality that we cannot see nor understand

But why blame them?

I know the truth about mental illness. I know that it is a disease. I know that having a disease does not make you less of a person. I know that there is a superhuman strength required to battle these diseases and there are few on the sidelines cheering for these people. But we should be.

I should be…

And for that to happen I need to be an advocate. I need to be a cheerleader. I need to talk openly about my experiences and help to break down the stigmas that exist. And I need to be a friend and supporter for those around me, always.

Everyone deserves to know that there is someone out there that loves them and cares for them no matter what. Scars and all.

Love and hugs,

Dacia

xoxoxo

One Year Ago...

Today I saw a post from last year when I found out my mom had breast cancer and a resulting double mastectomy and I was immediately hit with a flood of emotions. Not because my mom is currently sick, she isn’t- she is (praise all the baby goats!) cancer free. And that is so awesome. But  I remembered that moment- the fear, the sadness, the uncertainty I felt when I heard that news. I was so scared. My mom is my best friend. We have always been super close and to think of her in pain or hurting was soul crushing. I am crying as I type this. To say that was a tumultuous few months would be an understatement.

And of course, as I reflected back on last summer and my mom’s surgery I thought about how I had a really rough stretch of like 6-8 months last year. Paul and I were in a pretty bad place early on in the year, then my mom’s cancer scare, then the separation and divorce and the whirlwind that ensued because of it. Some days I wonder how I survived it all. And somehow I didn’t just survive it; somehow I came out the other end in a much better, happier, safer place.

I am lucky.

Or maybe I’m not.

Maybe I am here, having persevered through the rough stuff, not because of luck but because of resolve.  As the world was crumbling down around me I never let the temporary bad stuff take me down. Yeah, there were tough times. There were a ton of tears. And of course moments of doubt. But by and by I relied on my optimism, my friends and family, and my beliefs to see me through.

So, where am I going with this?  Eh, I’m not really sure.  I just wanted to share with you this story.  A little glimpse inside where I was then and where I am now to show you how quickly and how dramatically things can change- both in a positive and a negative way.

I think it is so hard to see ‘the end’ or ‘the results’ or ‘the happy ending’ when we are bogged down in shit. Especially during those times when we have no escape from the day to day circumstances that are weighing heavily on our minds and instead force us to rely heavily on hope or faith that it will all be ok.

So I just wanted to say this- everything will be ok.

Maybe not today, maybe not next week but trust me- it will be.

Life isn’t always good. But know this; if you woke up this morning able to breathe and live your life freely then guess what? It’s not as bad as it might seem.

So today, a year after some of the most shocking and saddening news I have ever received, I am fortunate enough to be here telling this story. This sad story with a happy ending.

My takeaway from all this- it’s just temporary. Even the shitty parts that make you feel hopeless. They will pass. You are strong. You will be happy. Maybe even happier than you’ve ever been. Just don’t give up hope. Even when you can’t see the finish line have faith in knowing it is there.

And always know that you are loved.

Love and hugs-

Dacia

xoxoxoxox

Just Checking In

Hey everyone! 

I'm writing this on my phone so it will be a brief post today. Just wanted to check in and let you know how things are going in NJ.

Mom's procedure went very well, as expected. The surgeon told me everything went as planned, the bilateral mastectomy and removal of the right side lymph nodes. The biopsy results from the lymph nodes should be in sometime later this week or early next. 

Yesterday, after the procedure, mom was pretty much out of it all day/night from the anesthesia but we stayed with her until we knew she was out for the night. This morning we found out she was being discharged and so we made a few trips to see her before they finally let her leave in the late afternoon. 

That about sums up the events of the past couple days. We are thrilled she is home and I know she is super happy to have the surgery over and done with. I'm trying my best to be a good daughter and take care of her the best I can which means trying to cook her healthy meals and show her videos of cute animals to help take her mind off of things. 

I'll be here until Sunday morning which is great. I'm happy to be home with my family through all of this. My next big hurdle-my final exam and final paper both due Monday for my grad classes.

Oh and then a triathlon on Thursday. 

Not 100% sure I'm ready to head back to reality. Lol! 

Oh, before I go- big huge thank you for all the messages, texts, calls this week. You guys are the best and I really appreciate all of your support. You make my life so much better just by having you in it. So thank you!!! 

Love and Kisses 

Dacia 

I'm Really Pissed...

My blog, in regards to the content I share on here, is pretty much a mixture of fluff (training recaps- for my accountability), hippie shit (acceptance, self-love, hug a tree, kiss a cow) and once in a blue moon there are pieces with substance that address some of the harder issues for me. This is going to be one of them. Consider yourself warned. There is profanity, too.

I’m pissed.

I am blood-boiling, gut-wrenching, kicking dirt angry.

As some of you may already know, I found out on Monday that my mom has breast cancer. She called me, as I had expected her to since we missed our normal Sunday call since I was traveling, and told me she had some bad news. Actually she called, told me she had bad news, asked if I was home (which I was not) and then asked me to call her back when I was, she didn’t want me driving when she told me. Luckily I was close by but those 10 minutes it took me to get there were pure torture.

My first thought was it was my uncle who is battling cancer and undergoing chemo. I thought it was more bad news about him.

Then my mind leapt to my cousin. She is currently hospitalized. Struggling. Life has been rough for her.

Then I thought about my father who has already had two heart attacks and then just 2 years ago gave us a hell of a scare when he suffered complications during neck surgery that we didn’t think he would survive.

Then I thought about my grandparents, both in their 80s. I thought maybe it was something with one of them.

I never, not even for a minute, thought it was my mom.

And when I finally made it home and called her back she asked me to have a seat. I knew it wasn’t going to be good.

When she said breast cancer I started bawling.

I could barely hear what she was trying to tell me.

Two biopsies, surgery, double mastectomy…in a few weeks…

What the fuck….

How was this happening? I couldn’t even process it. Paul was there, sitting beside me, holding me but I just wanted to run away.

I wanted to drive straight to the airport and get on the first flight to Philly. I wanted to be by her side.

I was scared.

I am scared.

And I will be going home to be with her for the procedure. As soon as we have a date (waiting on some blood work and CT scan results before the surgery is schedule) I will book my flight and head home.

And it sucks that that is the best I can do.

It sucks that I live so far away that I can’t just drop in and spend time with her whenever I want. This is actually the hardest thing about moving and military life- these moments when it’s really tough (more than the normal amount) to be so far from family.

I should tell you though how positive my mom is that the mastectomy and the hormone treatment (which is just taking a pill daily) will be enough. The biopsy of the lymph nodes during the procedure will tell us more but we are all really positive that she won’t need chemo, that there isn’t cancer elsewhere, that this will be one simple (yet painful) procedure and we will wipe our hands of this and be done.  

And yes, cancer sucks. I hate that my mom has cancer. But it isn’t really why I’m pissed.

I’m pissed because she doesn’t deserve this.

Not that I think anyone deserves cancer. I don’t.

But my mom, she really doesn’t deserve cancer.

I’m pissed because she spent over 25 years of her life battling bipolar disorder. Hasn’t she suffered enough?

She spent years of her life misdiagnosed, on the wrong meds, dealing with shitty doctors, in and out of hospitals, missing out on her life.

Wasn’t that enough?

Doesn’t 25 years of hell earn you a free pass on cancer?

It’s been about 5 years since her doctors found the right combination of meds that work for her. They all have weird side effects and it isn’t easy for her on those meds but on them she can live a pretty normal life.

The past few years, especially since my dad took an early retirement due to health issues, my parents have finally been able to live the life they always wanted.  They go to concerts, hang out in Chinatown, spend time with friends, visit family, take vacations and are really, finally, enjoying their life. It only took 60 years but they made it.

So, now for this to happen; I just have to say what the fuck. Really? Cancer, really?

It just doesn’t seem fair. How can someone who has endured so much be slated with another hellacious illness. How the fuck is that right?

Yep. I’m pissed. I think that’s pretty clear.

If I could take the cancer from her I would, in a heartbeat. No doubt about it.

Because that’s my mom, and she doesn’t deserve this.

She’s been through enough, life, didn’t you get the memo?

But here’s the thing. I may be really angry about this but she isn’t.

I may be anxious and nervous and sad but she isn’t.

Because she is a rock, my rock, which is probably why I’m the one freaking out.

And these feelings come in waves. Trust me, I am not spending my day filled with anger, sadness, or despair. For the most part I am pretty positive. My mom is, too. But then again she is the most positive person on the face of the planet. I learned from the master.

But I am still human, so some times my positivity gets pushed aside by that damn feeling of how unfair this all is.

But then I hear my mom’s voice telling me this will all be ok. She will be ok. And I know she is right. Because mom’s know everything.