Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

A couple of months ago I received some difficult news. My health is fine, but my life is upside down right now and I'm pissed off about it. That's not true. I'm afraid. Anyone who has lived to see it knows that adulthood is highly overrated. If I had known how good I had it at four years old, I would have savored it.

For those of you who don't know me personally, I'm not a fan of change, I'm stubborn, and I have a hard time accepting help from others. I like to think that I'm pretty smart and I can figure things out. Lately, I'm finding it hard to talk to people about my feelings and my situation. Of course, everyone has suggestions that I didn't ask for and don't want to hear. It's frustrating.

I have so much to figure out, so many big decisions to make, and so very little time to do it. In the past, when things have gone awry, they have always come back around and worked out to my benefit in some way. I'm trying my best to be in good spirits and keep it pushing, but everyday I feel life's vice tightening around me. Telling someone to have faith that things will get better is easy. Actually having said faith is scary difficult.

The Road to CancerCon - Updated*

So my BFF decided we needed to commune with some other young, fly, and flashy cancer survivors. Consequently, she made contact with an organization called StupidCancer.  As a birthday gift, she arranged for us to go to an annual event they host called CancerCon. It's being held in Denver next week, April 24 - 26, and I have a lot of mixed feelings about going. I am glad to go support her and meet some other people who know first hand what it's like to have cancer as a young adult. I'm also nervous because, as we know I am a big ass crybaby a bit sensitive and  I'm afraid that I will spend the entire weekend sobbing over feelings that I thought I'd already worked through. I'm hopeful that I will get some new resources for fertility assistance. I'm sure the experience will be a good one. I will be sure to take pictures and share.

Ridiculously Late Update:

As promised, I took a lot of pictures. Unfortunately, they aren't here because I'm limiting how much I share to respect others' anonymity. I hope that's not too much of a bummer.
Overall CancerCon was a great experience. I thought I was going to support my BFF, but I found that I also needed some support. I met gaggles of awesome people, each with their own stories and triumphs. I am so glad I went and I'm excited to attend again in the future.

That Awkward Moment

Dating is hard. Dating post cancer is ever harder. Dating post cancer with infertility issues is like doing Chinese arithmetic. There's never a right time to bring up the big C. I tend to do it relatively early. Most guys take the news in stride. For whatever reason, surviving cancer makes me a superhero to a lot of men. They commence to telling me how strong I am. I kind of like it, but only after the fact. I never bank on getting that reaction.

The harder conversation is the one about infertility. My friends always complain that it's difficult to meet thirtysomething guys without kids. For whatever reason, I have the opposite issue. I meet men with no kids ALL THE DAMN TIME. It's not a relief to me to hear that a man does not have children. Most of them want to have some at some point. That's hard for me to reconcile. I feel like they would be losing out on the opportunity to procreate by entering into anything serious with me. If I'm being honest, I feel like they are settling to be with me instead of really having what they want. It's a lot to process.

Unlike cancer, I try to wait to bring up infertility. Talking about kids on a first date is really awkward. It's not any less awkward on a second date. Unfortunately, it tends to come up earlier than I want it to. When people find out that I already have a daughter, their next question is almost always, "Do you want more kids?" I never know how to answer. I don't know how to say yes without giving the ridiculously gloomy backstory. People never know how to react, especially on a date.

The other issue is, after I tell men that I'm infertile, I feel that they check out on the possibility of anything long term with me. Sure they're still physically attracted to me, but they don't see a future for themselves that excludes children or includes all the money and complicated procedures that would go into having kids with me. This is the thing that sucks the most. No woman wants to just be "something to do" for a guy; least of all me.

I suppose practice makes perfect, so I continue to put on my big girl panties and tell men the deal. I have to believe that at some point, it won't be as overwhelming and someone will be awesome enough to accept the challenge. In the meantime, I'll work on getting better at these uncomfortable ass conversations.

Procreation Procrastination

My birthday is coming up. With its passing I'll be one year out from advanced maternal age. If you don't already know how old that is, I'm not about to tell your nosey ass. LOL. I am logical to a fault and I thought, if I'm gonna make this fertility preservation thing happen I should get the ball rolling before I age myself out of having a viable chance at it. Initially, I thought maybe I would have a mate by now and I wouldn't be left to figure all this out on my own. But you know what they say happens when you make plans.

I thought I had worked through my feelings about infertility... until I started reading. Supposedly, there's so many programs to help with fertility for cancer survivors. What I didn't realize it that they are mostly geared toward adolescent and married women without children; two groups to which I do not belong. I also did not realize that freezing your eggs to produce children  is a relatively new process. Apparently the pioneers in this field only have about a thousand births under their belt. My best bet would be to freeze an embryo, but since I don't have a paternal candidate, my options are obviously limited.

The fertility for cancer programs do not provide assistance if health insurance is willing to pay for any portion of the process. Logically, the first place I started was with my insurance. Lots of my co-workers have done cycles for in vitro fertilization with the help of our insurance. Since egg harvesting is part of that process, it's not a stretch to think that they may assist me with fertility preservation.

You would think that people who work in women's health would be sensitive to someone like me, but no. I spoke to a female call center agent to whom I explained my situation. I told her that I had lost my uterus to cancer, that I still had my ovaries, and I wanted to see if they could assist me with harvesting and preserving some of my eggs. She proceeded to coldly ask me a battery of questions. She wanted to know the first day of my last period. When I told her I hadn't had a uterus period in over four years, it didn't seem absurd at all to her to expect me to remember the date. I know it was at the end of November in 2010, because the stress of my upcoming surgery caused me to start my period early and royally fucked up the prospect of me getting laid beforehand. I'm not sure what the hell difference it makes FOUR FUCKING YEARS LATER, but I guess she has a job to do.

After she asked me a bunch of other uncomfortable questions, she was careful to inform me that my case would need to be closed if I became pregnant. Excuse me?!? I tried to stay calm and asked her what she meant by become pregnant. Instead of clarifying, she sighed and repeated herself rather quickly as though I was an idiot for not understanding. I attempted to clarify my question to this simple bitch because I had already told her dumb ass... I DON'T HAVE A COT DAMN UTERUS. I asked her if she meant when the egg freezing process was complete, or when my surrogate became pregnant. She was silent for a second, then repeated herself. I explained to her that I was confused by her statement because there is no possible way that I would "become pregnant" naturally or as a result of this process. She glazed over my statement like I hadn't even said it and ended the call.

I hung up the phone and cried for the better part of an hour. That exchange really knocked the wind out of my sails. I know that I have a letter from my insurance company in a pile of mail from my mother's house. I'm terrified to open it and possibly see that they denied my benefits. I'm trying to psyche myself up. It ain't hardly working.

Double Penetration Pap Smears

Down to twice a year. Small wins!

Back With the Remix

I was gone for a minute; not for a lack of cancer-related happenings in my life. I just couldn't figure out how to articulate my feelings. I think I've got it now. Welcome me back dammit!

We gotta stop meeting like this...

First I have word vomit on twitter about the stupid situatons I find myself in with XY chromosonal humans... And then God decides to use Google+ to talk to me... my only request is that next time he needs to +1 whoever this is so they are more readily identifiable...

Sometimes I surprise myself...

For every bit of outward strength I have, internally I’m twice as fragile. I am analytical to a fault. I spend a ridiculous amount of time playing out scenarios in my head. Maybe its my way of trying to maintain a level of control. If I’m being honest with myself... it’s a neurotic quirk. A year ago these scenarios involved how I would feel if I were ever faced with certain fears. I am a self admitted cry baby. Strangely enough when I say that to some people they have a hard time believing it. I imagine myself not being able to handle certain situations. One that I was particularly afraid of was having to face the possibility that someone would care for me but not be able to accept that I can’t give them a child. At a certain point I had convinced myself that I was all worked up over nothing... until it happened. To my own amazement I handled it pretty well. I didn’t cry, I didn’t get sad; I just told them, “Life is short... if you want a child, you should have one... and I can’t do that for you... and that’s fine” I suppose that retort was smug. Maybe because I couldn’t imagine myself with this person long term. I suppose if I was in love (ha! imagine that) that conversation would have gone differently. Although a bit more tearful, I think my response would be the same. Who knows... but for now, I’m patting myself on the back for being a big girl.

That's my story...and I'm sticking to it

I am alive

I am going to live

I am lovable

I am going to love

I do what I want

fight me

Sex, knives, and Shaken Eight Balls

Reality is setting in and I am overwhelmed with a million emotions. There is never a moment in my life when I'm not horny... I'm a grown up an I can admit that. More than I want to dry hump the shit outta random strangers, I'm really sad. I think about being barren and what that will feel like. I will never feel a baby moving in my womb ever again. I won't get to nurse, or have morning sickness, or get excited about my baby bump growing. It's funny, pregnancy used to scare me. I had a plan; I would meet the man I had been waiting for, fall in love and have more babies. Now I think, if I meet this man, I won't be able to give him a baby. And I feel inadequate. I know two days from now I will wake up with a gaping hole in my heart. I will feel it inside and out. I wonder if the next man who sees me naked will be disgusted by my scar. Will I have to explain it? I desperately hope not. I wonder if I will ever be the same.

The Smell of Latex in the Morning

FYI... Having a sixty year old white haired Caucasian man you've just met shove his KY jelly covered finger up your ass is not as fun as it sounds... IMHO of course

Blasphemy

Why is this happening to me?

Sugar Plum Fairies Don't Dance in My Head

Not the sexiest thing in the world... or is it?

Juxoposed

The part of my body that’s supposed to give life, now threatens to kill me...

What's in a name?

You're now tuned into The Secret Life of Cees. Love that name??? There's a two fold reason for it. Firstly because Cee is one of my many aliases. And secondly because last week I was diagnosed with cervical cancer. I'm expected to fully recover but the news was quite a blow. I suppose its foreign to anyone when someone tells them they have a disease who's whole reason for being is to grow and spread and kill them. I decided to blog about my cancer mostly because its kind of hard to talk about. Everyone wants to know what's going on with me and although I am quite verbal I don't always feel like discussing the serious stuff. So now is as good of a time as any to give you a disclaimer about my writing. Sometimes it's more about me saying it than it is about you understanding it, thusly you may be confused by my posts. This is not a pity party, although I may say some things that make you cry. I generally do NOT mince words, and I'm known for my off color commentary so if you ask me anything I will give it to you as real as I know how. I want this to be an organic process so I'm not holding myself to any timelines. With that being said... talk to you soon!

-Cee