Wednesday, March 11, 2015

How Does 40 Feel?

40 feels Fucking AMAZING!

I hope you'll pardon my language and understand why I felt compelled to use it. Here I sit, on the eve of my fortieth birthday, with one kid at basketball practice, one kid in front of me, begging for a Cadbury Creme Egg, my husband of almost 4 years, on his way home from the gym, and a beautiful, almost 10 month-old, baby girl, sleeping peacefully, upstairs in her crib, and I'm in awe of the fact that I'm actually still here.

I'm alive.

When I was diagnosed with small cell neuroendocrine carcinoma of the cervix, four years ago, I never dreamed I'd live to see 40. It was a death sentence. I had less than a 15% chance of surviving six months, let alone four more years.

Up until April 14, 2011, Diagnosis Day, the number 40 loomed in the not-so-distant future, haunting my dreams with visions of sagging skin, poor eyesight and wrinkles. 40 was the number I'd come to think of as the end of my youth and the beginning of my body falling apart. 40 was OLD and I did NOT want to be OLD!

Today, I thank everyone involved in my care for allowing me the chance to get old.

Yes, it's true, I have more wrinkles today, than yesterday. My weight, while holding steady, has decided to distribute itself into one location only, between my ass and my knees. My boobs aren't quite as high as I'd like them to be, though, they're still FABULOUS. And the skin above my eyelids has decided to droop into a permanent resting state, making any fancy shadow application pointless, because who's gonna see it under there anyway?

And that's all OK with me.

Today, I had my hair colored with streaks of crayon red. Tomorrow, I'll spend hours at a spa, being pampered from head to toe. And, on Friday, I'll march my ass to the plastic surgeon's office and happily instruct him to shoot needles into my face to relax the wrinkles and fill in the deep creases.

And that's OK with me, too.

Do you want to know why? Because, I'm FUCKING alive!

Two weeks ago, I went for my regularly scheduled CT scan. After giving me good news, my oncologist marveled at the fact that it's been almost four years since my diagnosis. He's never told me directly, but I can tell from the astonishment in his eyes
that he didn't think I'd still be here either.

But, guess what?

I'M STILL HERE!

I'M STILL ALIVE!

AND I'M 40!

1 comment:

  1. Hey! How have you been feeling? Did Dr.A's treatment help? Supposed to see him tomorrow for help.

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