Tuesday, December 18, 2012


I've decided to take a break from tv, radio and Facebook. With everything happening, I just can't anymore.

I've been thinking about that shooting in CT. I just feel so confused about it. There are so many questions, yet no real answers. My stomach has been in knots since I heard the news and I just can't wrap my head around it. There are so many people armchair quarterbacking about gun control, school safety , mental health treatment, etc. that I just can't handle. It also doesn't help that the media is sensationalizing everything to the point of saturating everything and confusing things even more.

I'm taking a stand in my own mind. I will focus on those young people that lost their lives, as they are the real victims here. I can get on my soap box and talk about mental illness and the lack of knowledge about diagnosis and treatment, but it won't bring anyone back. I can rant about gun control, but what good would it to to those families that lost loved ones right before Christmas?

As a nation we have to do better, and like it or not, we are all in this together. Our governments need to band together and start working towards achieving goals, not thwarting them.*

I'll be glad when this year is over an look forward to a brighter 2013.

*guess I couldn't resist not standing on a soap box for a second. ;)

Sunday, December 02, 2012

I Know My Truth

In acknowledgement of my new size and shape, I have been doing one of those irrational purging of my closet. I've filled 4 large garbage bags with clothes and other crap that doesn't fit.

Well, that stuff hasn't fit for a long time, I was just too lazy to get rid of everything. Like did I still need the t shirts I got in 2003 for participating in a charity walk? Especially since I never wear them at all, not to sleep in, gym in, or clean in.

I donated all of my stuff to the victims of Sandy, so I was able to get my frustrations out and be charitable at the same time. Paying it forward.

Here is just a sampling of what went.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

200, Give or Take

In all of my 36 years on this earth, I have never, ever, ever been this heavy.  I gained 50 lbs since my treatment in September putting me over 200 pounds.  200 POUNDS!!!!

I can't believe it.  When I met with my doctor in October  she said that I may put on a few pounds, so I should curb my eating and do some more exercising. So I started working with a trainer at a gym close to my house, 3 times a week and have been eating a high protein diet.  I was excited to go to the dr, because I was positive that there would be a drastic change in the scale...and there was, except instead of a minus, it was a plus!  She's never seen anything like it before.  I just started laughing like a hyena in the exam room.  I think she thought I was losing my mind.

Listen, I've never been a slim jim, but this is just beyond the point for me.  I have begun to literally measure out everything that I eat so that I can keep to my portions;  I meet with my trainer for 45 minutes 3 times a week and then do some home exercise on the days I don't;  I don't have a "cheat" day.  On paper, I am doing everything right, so why is my body revolting against me?  Can't it ever just play along?  Why do I always fall opposite of how the freaking treatment is supposed to go? Shit.

The thing that pisses me off the most is that my clothes don't fit, and like the stubborn bitch I am, I refuse to buy new clothes in a bigger size.  I feel like I wear the same 4 things to work every day.  Do you know that V-8 commercial where people are walking on the side?  I feel like that's what I look like walking down the street.  Waddling like a duck.  I can't sleep because I can't get comfortable, I'm irritable all the time, and I walk around in a fog most of the time.  Super duper fab.

I'm trying to remain positive, but this is dragging on way, way too long for my liking.  I know that this is insignificant in the grand scheme of things, especially since I know a lot of people that lost everything in Hurricane Sandy, and that I have been blessed with a good prognosis for remission, but it still sucks.

I do know this though: I will get this weight off my body, if I have to slice it off my damn self.

Monday, October 15, 2012


So obviously I have been slacking on this.  What else is new.  I have been feeling like a hot mess since my treatment: tired, cranky, and fat.  I have gained so much weight in the last 2 months, I'm embarrassed.  The meds I am taking have made me lethargic and bloated, so it's pretty much the same as before I got sick.

To add insult to injury, I have been breaking out like a 14 year old boy hitting puberty for the first time.  I never had acne problems before, even when I was going through puberty so now it hurts my feelings to see these massive growths on my face that need to start paying rent since they take up so much space.  All I need is my braces back and a squeaky voice and I would fit in awesome at my local middle school. So it's pretty much the same as before I got sick

I have decided to start exercising.   I need to channel my inner rage somehow. Ok, so I play tennis on my Wii, but at this point it is about all I can do until my body starts screaming at me to sit down and watch Couple's Therapy.  My sick body craves trashy reality shows.  So it's pretty much the same as before I got sick.

So that's where I'm at now. So it's pretty much the same as before I got sick


Friday, September 07, 2012

Best Laid Plans

I figured I'd tell you how I found out.  As everything else in my life, this is a long story.

Dirty and I had decided to start trying to have a baby.  Jigga what?  The person who had always poo-pooed the idea of children and was tolerant of them at best was planning to make one?!?!?!  Yes, Dirty wore me down.

Anyway, after a month of "trying" aka banging all the time, I started to feel weird.  Like super forgetful, shaky and lightheaded.  Everyone at my job was like "BABY".  But I didn't feel that. I knew that my body was revolting against me, and it wasn't for a good reason like incubating a baby.  

I took a pregnancy test.  Negative.  I went to my primary doctor, she did a standard blood test.  Normal.  I was starting to think I was going crazy.  I finally went to my endocrinologist, who when I told her my symptoms was "get in this office NOW!".

2 thyroid blood tests, 3 sonograms, a cat scan, 2 thyroid scans, an ekg, and 6 biopsy's later there it was.  Cancer.  Fucking cancer.  The whole time I was going through the tests, each tech told me that this case was so abnormal.  Um, hello?  This is me we are talking about.  Of course it is abnormal.  I am the only person on the face of this earth that gained weight with an overactive thyroid.

I remember an old post on here when I went through this once before; when everything was benign, and I said fuck cancer.  It is a scary work and even scarier outcome.

Luckily, my type is fairly easy to remedy.  A radioactive iodine treatment, a quick surgery and a few radiation treatments to make sure everything is dead, and poof, no more cancer.  Then I'll have to take synthroid for the rest of my life.

Could be worse, right?

Sidebar: Anyone find it strange how since I married Dirty, I broke my foot, was in the hospital for a kidney infection, and now this?  No?  Just me then?  Ok.

Sunday, September 02, 2012

I Always Come Back When I Need Something

As I sit here and write this I am taken back to the original reason why I started this blog.  Basically to have a space where I can share things with a modicum of confidentiality.  Since now most of my original readers know who I am, this blog has fallen into a hiatus. Now with things swirling around again, I need my corner back.

I have cancer.  Wow, that becomes real when you type it.  Since that word is like a bullet, i should explain that it is papillary carcinoma, and it is a form of thyroid cancer.  I found out in the beginning of August, and have been going for tests and such since then.  I haven't started official treatments yet; I haven't decided what to do, surgery or radiation/chemotherapy.

 I'm keeping it on the low for the foreseeable future, so no mentions on Facebook or anything.  Basically only Dirty, my parents, his mom and my sister know.  I've told my boss and key work people and they have been great.  I just want to keep it a secret now because I don't want those pity faces and the constant talk about when so-and-so had cancer this is now she handled it.

Right now, I am continuing to the be the sarcastic rag that I have always been.  The only thing that works for me right now in regards to this is that whenever I ask Dirty for something, he can't deny me (not that he ever did anyway).

Sloane: Honey boo boo, I need a cleaning lady
Dirty: Come on the house is not that big
Sloane: Please?
Dirty: No.
Sloane: But I have cancer!
Dirty: Ugh, fine.

Works like a charm every time.

PS: who is watching Honey Boo Boo?  No joke, that was God's gift to me when I was diagnosed. ;)