just breathe...

SOTD: "Breathe" Anna Nalick

"2am & he calls me 'cause I'm still awake. Can you help me unravel my latest mistake, I don't love her, winter just wasn't my season." {stuck in a constant loop in my head}

Maybe I'm a masochist. For the last couple of weeks I've gone back to the old me, or at least tried to find what's left of her. The happy, active, creative, optimistic me. Those things that have been so buried I wondered if I'd ever find them again. 

It's going to sound crazy, but the catalyst was something so small (and at this moment, quite insignificant) but the mere possibility, that if all comes together, in just the right way, I might get a second chance to do work I can actually be proud of, in my favorite city, near my favorite people...as hard as I try, I can't help but get my hopes up. Even crazier, a year ago, I said I would NEVER move back to Knoxville; suddenly it's all I can think about. I can't remember the last time I wanted something so badly. 

The trouble with this is that I've really only begun to scrape the surface of the wounds left from the last year I lived there. It took over 4 years, but I can finally put it behind me & appreciate the motto I so freely spew 'Everything Happens For A Reason'. I don't think I really understood that saying until recently. It may not even be true, but it helps process things that just can't be explained. The idea that maybe our lives are written for us even before we begin living them; it's the closest thing you can get to a band-aid for a broken heart. There's an amount of optimism to that which feels familiar. 

Slowly I've started doing some of the things that I did often before everything changed, but couldn't allow myself to enjoy for a long time after, like painting. It's been really great. I forgot how much I loved it until I started a big project late last year. I also forgot how if I don't pay attention, I can go on for hours on end without eating or sleeping. I just get lost in the details & perfection. 

Very few things are within my control & anytime I'm faced with a new challenge, particularly like the insignificant, life-altering possibility at hand, I find new ways to occupy every waking moment. Without a distraction, the waiting alone will drive me nuts. (It should come as no surprise that I started writing this entry at 3am!) 

So tonight, while fighting insomnia that hasn't really been a problem since May when I was prepping for my 6 month check-up, I started watching old episodes of The Hills that I've been DVR'ing all week. This combined with switching up my driving soundtrack (I usually listen to newer stuff from my iPad, but for the last couple of weeks I've pulled out the old iPod; mostly music pre-2010, but all of my favorite songs are on it) well, it all takes me back to a different place & time. I'm watching The Hills, LC & Heidi's friendship severed at the same time I severed a friendship that I never imagined would end. And ours was over something much less serious, but it doesn't stop the flood of memories that continue to rush in. I hear songs on my iPod and instantly I'm standing in my grey bedroom pacing the floor beside my bed, on the phone with 'Somebody That I Used To Know'... He's saying "I love you" for the first time, I'm folding laundry & drafting an exit strategy (because, c'mon, it's only been 3 months, how the hell could you already be in love with me...I still don't know how you like your coffee...) or the night I realized I would never talk to my first love & true 'boy-friend' ever again. It probably sounds ridiculous to most people but I have an unhealthy relationship with many things and music ranks among the top 3. My commutes to & from work (when not having a marathon chat season with my BFFs) is always filled with music, but lately I've been playing radio roulette with my old iPod. (For those wondering, it's basically pondering the meaning of life based on whatever song pops up next on the shuffled mix; given my taste in music, it's rare that I get something that doesn't provide profound context or at the very least & awesome sing-along track!)

Maybe that's why it's after 4 & I'm still awake trying to process what I simply can't say. I know change is coming. It's exciting. It's terrifying. But worst of all, I have very little control over any of it. My friends will know what to say to make me feel like I'm still in control. I'm not sure if they're aware that they do this or if its just part of our friendship that happens naturally, without effort, but I've got 4 friends who never let me down & always know when to give me that extra attention I hate asking for but sometimes desperately need. For me, this is a harsh reality. The mere fact that I can acknowledge I want/need attention drives me nuts because being fiercely independent is kind of my thing. Nonetheless, I admit, from time to time I do. 

I was talking with a friend last night & she noted a difference in the tone of my voice. She's not wrong. It was just a couple of weeks ago I was so frustrated & just didn't know how to get out of it. In fact, the night before I get the great news that could change everything, I cried all the way home. I didn't talk to anyone that night & I was more lost & uncertain than I'd been in a very long time, if not ever. But one tiny positive sign turned everything around & now I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

Back to Radio Roulette for a moment... The last song that played before I got home was The Alternate Routes "Please Don't Let It Be". It seems this song take a new point of context every time I hear it. The context changes based on the challenges in my life which make certain lyrics stick out. Tonight the lyrics I can't stop thinking about are in the main chorus: 

"Believe me, that you're standing on the edge of something good/But it's the hardest thing you ever had to do/Truth be told, you're begging on your knees/Singing please don't let it, please don't let it be"

I'm not sure why these are the words haunting me tonight. Maybe it's my fear of change; of making the same mistakes all over again. Sometimes I get so wrapped up thinking about what will happen 3 steps ahead that I miss what's right under my feet. I've had many regrets, in hindsight. People I wish I had spent more time with & no longer have that option; people I wish I hadn't given so much of my time to, knowing now, I'll never get it back. I see photos of what my life could've been if I hadn't been so headstrong, career driven & afraid of letting someone get too close. I see everyone around me moving forward and it's like I'm stuck in a glass box that's shatterproof. My best friend got married earlier this year & although we say it wont change our friendship, I dont expect to have the same crazy random fun our friendship was built on. I have no doubts we will remain friends but I also know there are now two other people who come first and I couldn't be happier about that, honestly. My other best friend still works for the company that broke my heart. Not only that, but she's there at least 6 days a week & works much later than she should, so when we find the time to talk, it's hard to avoid certain topics that leave me feeling unsettled; I hear about people who are still doing the job I loved so dearly that are unhappy, complacent & ungrateful and it drives me nuts. (I may never fully recover from the way my departure was handled; see blog entry #1 for the full story). My other two best friends are planning weddings; one for January 2014 & the other for June 2014 in California. 

I've been rambling for quite a while & I'm no closer to an answer than when I started, but it has been a great distraction to get me through a sleepless night & considering I've barely used this blog all year, if at all...I doubt anyone will ever even see this. If you do, maybe there's a reason you ended up in my rabbit hole...in any case, this is all I have to say & I don't intend to post another 'diary' entry anytime soon. Just needed to get a few things out of my head without bothering anyone else for a change. 

I'll leave with my favorite lyrics from SOTD: 

"2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song/If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me/Threatening the life it belongs to/And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd/Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud/And I know that you'll use them, however you want to"

10 years later...

SOTD: Taylor Swift - "22"

Last October, I shared the story of how, as a senior in college, I had my first encounter with breast cancer. Thank God, aside from the ugly scar from my lumpectomy (which I'm still a little upset hasn't turned into the "stretch-mark" I was promised...) I managed to escape with minimal damage (emotional or physical).
What I didn't mention in that story is that even as I wrote it, I knew there was a mass growing in a place that it shouldn't have been growing. What's worse, I didn't want to do what I knew needed to be done, so I didn't. Yes, I know. It's irresponsible, hypocritical & basically all the things I find revolting in people who annoy me. So, why, you might ask am I telling this story now?
Because it matters.
A couple of months ago (3rd Saturday in October to be exact), I spent the weekend with an old friend. She's one of those friends who has spanned such a large part of my adult life, that I can't remember a major event that she wasn't a part of & the months (and sometimes years) when we weren't super close are insignificant in comparison. She was one of the few people who knew of my scare in college, so, after a weekend of classic bonding, in a way only we can do, I confessed my fear that there might be something to worry about. Once the words came out, there was no turning back, I knew I had to make the appointment and good or bad, face it head on.
The following week, I made an appointment. Ironically, the earliest appointment available was the morning of November 5th (the day after my birthday & the day before Election Day). I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried more about this doctors appointment than the fact that I was turning 32 and hadn't accomplished a quarter of the things I had planned by that age. But, I didn't want anyone to worry unnecessarily, so I didn't really tell anyone what was happening. Instead, I just smiled and acted like everything was perfectly fine (cue: The Wreckers - "Stand Still, Look Pretty"). Finally, the big day arrived & as much as I wanted to think I had imagined something that wasn't really there, my doctor agreed, something wasn't right. Five minutes into my exam, he had a nurse schedule another appointment with a radiologist for the very next day. I'm not really sure what happened over the course of the next 24 hours, at least not in the world around me. I can, however, account for every second in my overly-active, imaginative head. I played out every worst case scenario as if November 6th - a day which for months I had imagined to be the greatest day in a generation, the day Barack Obama was elected for a second term - would be my doomsday (I often wonder if this is how Republicans felt that day...but I digress).
Since I had voted on Halloween, I wasn't worried about the election, in fact the election allowed a much needed reality check with my favorite little girls on the planet. An hour before my ultrasound, my goddaughters meet me for coffee as they were passing through from Nashville. In an instant I was brought back to earth and reminded of the importance of being brave & no matter what the future held, how they saw me handle it mattered more than any fear or pain I might face.

The ultrasound went pretty quickly, but not without a few quirky moments. I didn't realize it at the time, but the ultrasound tech looked really familiar. It wasn't until I got to my car I put it together, we graduated high school in the same class. I'm not sure if she knew it was me during the exam, I'd say she probably did, which is why, although both my doctor & I could feel an unnatural growth, during the ultrasound she assured me there was nothing there. "Absolutely nothing to worry about".
With that, I headed back to work, with what felt like the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders. I called my friend on my drive back to share the good news, after all, it was only 12 hours before she was reassuring me that everything would be fine a vowing to stand by my side, no matter what. That's a pretty good friend. But I found I don't have a really good friend. I have a best friend, an amazing, confident and brave friend. I found this when she offered her first, honest, reaction to my sigh of relief; paraphrasing..."Oh, thank God, I don't have to shave my head"! I wanted to laugh & cry all at once. For the record, I would never let anyone shave their head in solidarity. It's an awfully kind and thoughtful thing to do, but why on earth would you do something that you may very well not be equipped to pull off fashionably without medical necessity? Have we learned nothing from the braveness of Kelly Pickler?!?
Our conversation that day was one of my favorites because I knew no matter what, I had someone who will always have my back (or as the case may be, boob). It was a nice feeling.
Election Day played out much like I expected. As my friend put it so eloquently on Twitter the next morning, I was on cloud nine... Until about 10am.
That was around the time I got the call I wasn't expecting. It was my doctor's office. They had received the radiology report & it wasn't looking as "absolute" as I had been told. It all happened so fast & unexpectedly, but what I remember were the words "surgical consult" & "lymph node". My doctor was not equipped to follow through with the types of tests & exams that I needed, so they arranged for me to meet with my old friend (and surgeon) Dr. Webber at the Knoxville Comprehensive Breast Center.
Another irony in this story is that only a few months before another good friend was confronting this same issue with her mother & I sang the praises of Dr. Webber, who ultimately ended up treating her Mom. I guess that's why I had his information handy and available when the nurse asked if I had a preference. Within a few hours, I had a full day of surgical & radiological consults scheduled for the next week.
The joy we shared a day earlier was quickly shattered as my worst fears were suddenly possibilities again. Because I know that it's a waste of time to worry, I try to just live in the moment & worry when there's something to worry about. However, if you follow me on twitter or Facebook & noticed posts, tweets or complaints about insomnia or random things at even more random hours, you now know why. I simply didn't sleep for over a week. Then came the big day, November 15th.
As expected, my friend had cleared her schedule and sat by my side for nearly every second of this frightening day. The only time I don't remember her being there was during the mammograms; she wasn't allowed in due to the radiation exposure risk. I don't know that I've ever had a friend as devoted & caring. From the snacks she packed for the long day ahead, to the inappropriate stories she told at just the right time to ease my anxiety, to the fury she expressed as we left the facility (more on that in a minute...) I wasn't facing the scariest battle of my life alone, and I knew it.
So the final stop on the "Show us your lumpy boob" tour was the ultrasound which, again, went really well. That said, even the ultrasound tech mentioned the possibility that the doctor might want to biopsy the area after she looked at the mammogram images & ultrasound video. So, we weren't out of the woods just yet, but it was as close to an all clear as I could have expected. In fact, once the news set in, I'm pretty sure I started to cry. Not because I was sad or scared, but because I had been so scared & for the first time in a week (which at that point had started to feel like a year) I breathed a sigh of relief. But like every other part of this story, there was quickly a tipping point.
This time it was when the doctor came in. It didn't help that she asked me "so, what's going on here today?", as if she had no idea why I was half dressed sitting on her exam table. Then, in a matter of minutes, it was discussed & decided that at least one biopsy & tagging would be taking place, but it turns out there's a second, smaller, more narrow area on the underside that also has blood-flow & looks a bit mysterious. So mysterious that it only showed up in half of the images & scans. So another, more targeted set of mammogram images was needed before a final decision could be made.
The new scans only made the issue more complicated & so, what I thought would be over by the end of the day was now being scheduled for more invasive follow up in 2 weeks. TWO MORE WEEKS!?!?!

I had no choice. I adapted my philosophy that you shouldn't worry without cause & tried to hold it together for the next 14 days while I waited to see just how bad the situation might be. Along the way, there were many sleepless nights filed with worst case scenario soap operas which played out in the most dramatic ways in my head. At some point I decided to start bribing myself. I bought lots of "because you made it this far" gifts like a breast cancer awareness North Face jacket, a Kate Spade watch I had been lusting after for several months & three or four (I honestly lost count) new Kate Spade purses. (If it's not clear already, I'm a huge fan of Kate Spade!)
The gifts helped but the time didn't pass any faster. I tried other things too, like painting, but my OCD was only heightened by my anxiety & the need to create perfection superseded the joy of escaping through art. Then there was the notice that my insurance would not cover an MRI, the very test the doctor thought was necessary and ultimately the reason everything was pushed out 2 additional weeks. Of course it came over Thanksgiving weekend, so not only was I freaked out about the insurance issue, there was nothing I could do about it until Monday! Even then, it was a no go on the MRI, which is where the fury my friend expressed actually starts to make sense. I could have had every procedure on the first visit, but because of the second spot & stupid MRI, they put it off. It didn't make sense at the time & made even less sense now.
When November 29th finally arrived, I had decided since they were only doing a needle biopsy & tagging on the original mass, I could handle it on my own. I wasn't really afraid. I had honestly made peace with the whole situation. And then I got there. And it started to hit me, I was going to have a very big needle entering a very sensitive area & at least one of these entries would be "tagging", or marking the growth with a tiny titanium ribbon or wing. Slowly, and then a little more quickly I was entering the panic zone. Then, as if God himself knew I was on the edge of losing it, the nurse came in with an anti-anxiety drug & requested the person who would be driving me home. Well, of course, I didn't have anyone. I was doing it alone, remember?!? I immediately called my friend, who, by the way is a teacher, who was still on the clock. Without hesitation, she said she'd leave as soon as her kids were gone & would be there within an hour. And she was. In that hour, the procedure was completed. The worst part for me was before anything actually happened. It was during the prep when the nurse described in very specific detail, step by step, what would happen. Turned on my side, facing the wall, I found myself silently crying out of fear. So much for doing it alone! It was in that moment I realized life isn't meant to challenge tough things alone. That's why we have family & friends. I had barely been bandaged & re-dressed when my friend arrived. Both full of fury for not having been told we should prepare or this the first time around & concern for the trauma she could see through the fear in my eyes, she did what only she could do; she held it together for me & made sure I had all the info/drugs/supplies I needed for my recovery.
Seeing that I never relaxed enough for the drugs to actually work, she followed me as I drive back to her house. I stayed with her as I recovered for the next few days. That night, although I managed to lose more blood from a scrape to my knee acquired through a totally innocent walking mishap while attempting to obtain dinner from Panera, I got the best night's sleep I'd had in over a month. So good that when my friend was on her way home from work, well after 3pm, it was her call to check on me that woke me from a very peaceful slumber. Within the next hour, I got the news I needed...the biopsy results showed absolutely NO abnormalities. I was in the clear; at least for the mass growing around the lymph node. The most upsetting news is actually pretty vain; instead of a titanium ribbon, I was tagged with a titanium wing. I know...there are tons of women who would rather complain about the shape of the titanium injected into their bodies & not the chemo or other horrible treatments they have to endure. The final word was that I am basically in the clear & will follow up in March/April to check on the second mass, but I'm not worried. I'm built with titanium. Whatever happens, I will make it through with lots of love & support from friends & family.
I've just realized the length to which I've told this story and haven't explained why.
Today is December 23rd, 2012. Exactly 10 years ago today, my first tumor was extracted & found to be benign. In my family, we celebrate Christmas a little early each year when we acknowledge the events of December 23, 2002. Each year I am grateful & reminded of the importance, for women of all ages, to be aware of their own breast health. Early detection could be the difference between a needle biopsy or mastectomy, or in even worse cases, life & death.

the time is now

I stopped actively posting on Facebook a few months ago. It became a place that wasn't fun in the months leading up to the election. I found myself disgusted with things my "friends" were saying in relation to their political & personal beliefs. I fully support the right to free speech, so rather than get sucked in, I just stopped participating; after all, I still have other social media outlets like Twitter & Pinterest to keep me connected.
However, while I've been sharing my thoughts of the last 36 or so hours very actively on Twitter, it occurs to me, my "followers" there are mostly in agreement with my political views (and those who aren't are good enough friends to know that I'm okay with civil disagreement when it comes to political discourse); that said, I have 600+ "friends" who should know that I'm not okay with what happened in Newtown Friday. I'm not okay with what happened in Oregon Tuesday. I'm not okay with what happened in Aurora in July. I'm not okay with what happened in Arizona last January.
During Clinton's presidency the country had an assault weapons ban. The last administration let that ban expire without batting an eyelash.
I've seen many voice concerns over the last 5 years that, if elected, Obama would take their guns away; clinging to their bibles & the 2nd amendment as if the idea that we not be allowed to protect ourselves would cause our world would come to an end. To those, I have this to say, clearly Obama didn't want your guns, because he has done absolutely nothing on gun control during his first term. Also, his election & re-election didn't destroy your worlds. But, Friday, 26 families had their worlds stop spinning when a guy with access to 3 semi-automatic weapons (all registered & purchased legally by his mother in CT) went on a 2 minute shooting spree that ended when he took his own life. (If you ask me, he did it in the wrong order; otherwise, 26 families wouldn't spend the holidays grieving their losses.) It's inexcusable to stand by, doing nothing to prevent the same thing from happening again. Absolutely unacceptable. I thought maybe, after the Virginia Tech massacre, President Bush would have entertained a conversation on re-establishing the assault weapons ban, but no. Then, when the Congresswoman was shot I thought, President Obama will make sure this never happens again, that we might tighten our gun laws a little, but no, it "wasn't the right time to talk about gun control".

Now, not just the nation, but around the world, people are trying to understand the madness that took 20 'babies'; 20 children who had nothing but possibilities waiting for them. I'm sorry but I don't believe it's impossible to mourn our losses while we fix the problem. There is no reason any private citizen needs an assault riffle or a handgun. These are not weapons that were made for hunting, these weapons were created to kill. As I told a friend on Tuesday, nobody wants to eat Bambi after he's been shot up with an AK-47.
I honestly don't care if you disagree with me, as I said before, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but I urge you, if you agree that we need immediate action, that it should not be easier to purchase a gun than cast a vote, that a child's life is more valuable than your right to carry a gun, please join me in contacting the people who can make these changes. Call, email, tweet...however you want to do it, contact your congressperson, your senators & the president (If you need contact info, let me know, I'd be happy to google it for you!) and beg them to have this conversation & take immediate action. It's one thing to be upset by a tragedy like this, but if you don't take action, those tears mean very little.
I'm not okay with what happened Friday & I could go on forever about the gifts under Christmas trees that will never be opened or the innocence lost by kids who were led out of their school & told to hold their hands over their eyes because the bloody hallways with bodies of teachers & classmates can be disturbing, especially if you're under the age of 10, but I will step off my soap box.
What happened is unimaginable (to the point I don't even want to bring a child into a world like this) but we can stop it from happening again. And if we can't, I don't want to be the kind of person who says I never tried.

what kind of year has it been...

SOTY: We Are Young by fun. (as covered by the cast of Glee)

Via

I'm still here.

Those three words cover so much ground, but ultimately, for me, 2011 will go down as the year I survived. It's the year I let go of old feelings and embraced a new career path. The year I learned that true friends can help you get through anything & superficial friends will find the quickest exit when the times get toughest. But most importantly, I learned that if you can keep an open mind and see the bigger picture, the snap shot you might be looking at, no matter how disastrous, is never as impossible as it might seem in the moment.

I started this blog a year ago because I was determined to move beyond the tragedies that I had let limit my life. In many ways, it worked. I let go of the hurt & anger I had been holding on to since I lost my job at RIVR. In doing so, I learned to accept that things would never be like that again and forged a new path with a new career that I could be passionate about.

I've also used this blog to share some of the most important events that have surfaced for me & my family over the last year. I would've never expected that my brother would be diagnosed with cancer & have FOUR brain surgeries over the course of the year. More importantly, I could've never imagined how being faced with mortality would teach me to appreciate the things, people & moments in my life for everything they are.

The rabbit hole, as most of you already know is a reference to Alice in Wonderland. What I've never really addressed, is why I used this reference. Well, part of it was because I've been known to go on and on about things, and since this is my place to do that, I knew when I created it, this would be a place where I didn't hold back. I would say as much as I wanted about whatever I wanted to and I would not care what anyone else thought because IT'S MINE. All of it. And 99% of what I've posted has come from a place of not caring what anyone else thought. The other 1%, well, let's face it, no matter who you are, you will always care what someone thinks of you, especially when you lay your most honest thoughts out for all the world to see.
{Also, I am the 99%. Sorry, I couldn't help myself!}

"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?" Alice In Wonderland

The other reason I chose the Wonderland reference was because I tend to become consumed by things and can literally lose hours of my life chasing them down rabbit holes. Ironically, 2011 introduced me to the equivalent of crack for a habit like this, Pinterest, thus making my "falling" all the more enjoyable. Because my two great passions in life have anyways been Politics & Pop Culture, it's no surprise I posted commentary here following the State of the Union, various awards shows & even the Casey Anthony trial. I don't think I ever expected to start an actual conversation (although, sometimes it did), mostly, I just wanted to record my thoughts & feelings in the moment, when they were their strongest.

In 2012, my goal is to post twice as much as I did this year, but I don't plan to change my reasons for blogging; it will continue to be an outlet to share my life and my opinions with those who chose to venture down my rabbit hole. You might not always agree with me, but in the end, you should always know that I am mature enough to keep an open mind and will hear you out if you chose to challenge me on something that I post. In that same vein, not everything I post will interest you. That's okay too! Just don't give up on me if you aren't interested or disagree with a single post. Finally, because of my new enabler, Pinterest, I have discovered things that should be shared with my friends & family in a broader scope than simply posting them to a board with an ironic name. Assuming I can keep up with it, I plan to do a weekly post with just my favorite finds of the week. {for my blogger friends who are already doing a version of this, please take it as a compliment that I want to do this too & not that I am attempting to copycat or bandwagon your ideas - my post will be entirely compiled of things I find and if one of those things is found on your blog, believe me, you'll get the credit you deserve!}

Now, there's only one thing left before I close the books on 2011...

My thoughts on the year that was Pop Culture 2011:

Top 5 New TV Shows:
1) Revenge (abc)

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2) American Horror Story (fx)

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3) Hart of Dixie (cw)

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4) Once Upon A Time (abc)

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5) {tie}
Ringer (cw)

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The Lying Game (abc family)

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5 Favorite Returning Series:
1) The Good Wife (cbs)

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2) The Vampire Diaries (cw)

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3) Pretty Little Liars (abc family)

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4) {tie}
Glee (fox)

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Modern Family (abc)

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5) {tie}
Grey's Anatomy (abc)

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Private Practice (abc)

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Top 5 News Makers:
1) The Royal Wedding: Prince William, Kate Middleton & all things Pippa

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2) The Occupy Wall Street Movement

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3) The Casey Anthony Trial

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4) Political Scandals & Partisan Politics, i.e. Weinergate, Herman Cain, Gridlock on the Hill

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5) The Passing of Steve Jobs (aka: iSad)

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Top 5 Albums:
1) 21 - Adele

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2) Speak Now - Taylor Swift

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3) Live at Benaroya Hall with the Seattle Symphony - Brandi Carlile

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4) Teenage Dream - Katy Perry

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5) Lights - Ellie Goulding

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5 Most Played Tracks (according to my iPad & iPod play counts)
1) Someone Like You - Adele
2) Long Live & Better Than Revenge - Taylor Swift
3) Turn To Stone - Ingrid Michaelson
4) Gravity - Sara Bareilles
5) Twice - Little Dragon

I won't be posting lists for Books or Movies because I simply don't have a basis to list the top 5 of either. Since I spend my free time watching TV & cruising Pinterest, I don't see a lot of films. I did catch a few in the theatres this year, and by far, the best of them was Bridesmaids, I don't feel my experience with movies in 2011 merits a list.

Similarly, I started nearly a dozen books in 2011, but at this time, I've only finished 3 or 4 of them. I don't believe in resolutions, but one of my goals in 2012 is to finish all the books I've started and then only try to conquer one at a time.

Fun Fact: While finishing Game Change (I can't wait to see the HBO movie versionnext year!!) I felt the need to read Going Rouge by Sarah Palin. I went to my local library and checked it out, so as not to contribute to the fincial gain of the Palin family, and I read it cover to cover in the span of one weekend. I was relieved upon finishing the book to realize my feelings and assumptions about the person were still the same, if not even more cemented.

The other books I started this year were primarily biographies; I'm still reading Audition (Barbara Walters, been working on this one for nearly 5 years!), I've started 3 different books about Kate Middleton & the Royal Wedding/Couple, the Christina Haag biography about her relationship with JFK Jr "Come To The Edge" (thanks Kate S.!) and I got the Steve Jobs biography & Steven King's "11/22/63" for Christmas, so I shouldn't complain about not having anything to read in 2012!

To date, the Rabbit Hole has had 2,999 visitors; for something that I created as a place to share the thoughts I usually reserved for silent conversation in my head, I couldn't be more surprised by this number! Here's to 2012 and the hope that life will give me plenty of good material for even more tumbles down!

fight like a girl

SOTD: Melissa Ethridge - "I Run For Life"

Since October is Breast Cancer Awareness month, I wanted to share my story. Many people think this is a disease that only affects women over 40, but I am living proof that it can happen to almost any woman.
 
My story begins in the spring of 2002. I was a Junior year at the University of Tennessee and a member of Zeta Tau Alpha sorority. Our national philanthropy is Susan G. Koman For the Cure. Each October we saved lids & volunteered in the survivors tent at Race for the Cure. In April, we participated in 'Don't be a Fool' by handing out self-exam instruction cards to encourage women to do a self-check once a month in the shower.
 
It was around mid-April 2002 while following the instructions on one of those shower cards that I noticed a bump that hadn't been there before. It wasn't very big and didn't hurt, so I didn't think much about it at the time. A few weeks later, I was having my yearly check up and my doctor asked me to feel for lumps and it was still there. She, too, thought it might not be anything to worry about, and given that I was only 21 at the time, she instructed me to keep an eye on it and come back in 6 months for another check up. We didn't attempt a mammogram because, honestly, there wasn't enough there to xray and what little bit was there was still very dense due to my youth, which wouldn't give a very good picture of what was actually in there, anyway. If needed, my doctor explained, an ultra sound would provide a much better image of the mass, but we agreed to cross that bridge in 6 months, if we needed to.
 
I still wasn't overly concerned. I was about to go to DC for the summer to intern with my congressman and I was pretty certain people my age didn't get breast cancer. I made an appointment to return in October for check up and pretty much forgot about it.
 
The summer passed and I returned from DC to start my Senior year. In October, I went back for my scheduled check up. The lump was still there and it felt a little bigger. Despite my age, my doctor expressed real concern with what might be growing inside my chest. She insisted that I schedule an appointment to meet with a specialist at the Knoxville Comprehensive Breast Center (KCBC) to get an ultra sound and second opinion. 
 
About three weeks later, I had the ultra sound. Again, the mass was still there and it was visible on the scans, but there were other factors that didn't provide for a clear cut diagnosis. I had been diagnosed a few years before with Fibercystic Breast Disease, which is basically just lumpy boobs that are worsened by things like caffeine intake. There was a really good chance that the mass was simply a fluid filled cyst, but it was recommended that I get an MRI to determine whether or not it might be something more.  I should have been relieved by the optimism that what I had in my chest was a harmless cyst, but I was actually starting to grow a quite anxious thinking about the possibility that I might have cancer. Not just cancer, but breast cancer. At 22!
 
Another week passed and I had the MRI. I was told it would be a few days before the results would be available, and again, I was told, most likely, the mass was just a cyst and posed potentially no threat. 

By this time it was early December and my classes were all finishing up for the semester. I was just a few days away from closing the books for a much needed winter break. I will never forget, I had three exams in one day and I had just left class for the first of the three. My phone rang. It was the KCBC. My test results had come back and they were informing me that I was scheduled for surgery on December 23. I think, for a minute, the entire world stopped spinning. Not only was I getting the news that I would need surgery (specifically, a lumpectomy to extract the mass for biopsy), but my worst fears were becoming a reality. Forget the all nighter I had just pulled preparing for my other two finals, I couldn't have cared less about my exams at this point. To be honest, I know I took the tests, but I don't actually remember anything else that happened that day. Although, I am fairly certain it was my score on the American Studies final I took half an hour after the call that resulted in my grade dropping from an A to a B- for the semester.
 
The two weeks between the call and my surgery seemed to drag on. Each day I found something new to freak out and obsess over. It started with small things, like rearranging my furniture. A few days later it was midnight run to Wal-Mart to buy paint which was then used to repaint all of the wooden furniture in my bedroom. It's an understatement to say that I've got control issues, but it's absurd the lengths I would go to in order to feel like I was still in control. (Who knew you couldn't use a semi-gloss paint on poly-stained wood without a primer?!? It looked pretty ridiculous when I was finished repainting it, but I told anyone who saw it that the result was exactly what I had hoped for! ) 

I worked at J. Crew part-time for most of my undergraduate years & believe me when I say I broke all kinds of sales records that holiday season. Someone once told me, "If you can't get out of something, get into it." While I'm not entirely sure this is what they had in mind at the time, the general idea helped to motivate sales that generated a couple of gift cards, a really nice silver coffee mug & even a (pink!) cashmere sweater, which I still wear proudly. But I couldn't bury all of my fears in my work...
 
Mini panic attacks had become normal in the days leading up to my lumpectomy. It was nearly impossible to sleep and when I did I had terrible nightmares about losing my boobs, or worse yet, my hair. I had all but convinced myself I would end up with one boob and no hair, thereby securing my future as a spinster. I mean, who would want to marry such a ridiculous mess? Really?!? I wouldn't consider myself vain by any means, but even for someone who's typically not concerned with appearances, the idea of having your image or body altered as a result fighting a disease like this, can be more than unsettling.
 
I didn't share my news with many people. I guess there was part of me that was still in denial, hoping against hope that my worst fears weren't actually coming true and partly, too, because I just felt so overwhelmed with what was about to happen that putting it into words became almost clinical, and this, too, was unnerving. 
 
On December 23, 2002, I checked in to Fort Sanders before the sun had even come up. Terrified, with my mom by my side, I thought about how my life might be changing. In a matter of hours, everything would go back to normal or I would be facing the biggest challenge of my young life. I remember my mom, with tears in her eyes, saying, "everything is going to be okay" and although we both knew she didn't know if this was true or not, it made me feel better. My surgeon, Dr. Webber, who I had only met for the first time about fifteen minutes before when the nurse came in to give me 'a little something for my nerves' resurfaced to announce it was time to get started. He assured us that everything would be fine & that he had done this procedure hundreds of times. He told my mom that he would keep her updated every half hour until she could be with me again in recovery. With that, she squeezed my hand and kissed my forehead and I was taken to the OR. Another sedative was administered through my IV followed by an oxygen mask and the request that I count backward from ten. I don't remember anything past the 10, 9, 8...  and then, about 6 hours later, I began to wake up.

I am told I had a difficult time waking up from the anesthesia,  although, the only thing I can really remember from the day of my surgery was a conversation I overheard in the recovery room between Dr. Webber & my mom. At the time, I only made out a few words...removed, tumor, duct & cyst. I would learn later that the actual exchange went a little more like this:

Dr Webber: As we expected, the lump was actually a cyst.
Mom: So, there's nothing to worry about?!?
Dr: When we removed the cyst, we discovered the tumor growing behind it within the duct.
M: What does this mean?
Dr: It explains the inconsistencies in all the tests we ran before and I believe we've removed it all. We need to run some labs, but in a few days we should know more. For now, she should just rest & I will check on her in a day & two. 

And with that, and another hour or two in recovery, I was discharged. 

Since it was just a couple of days before Christmas, mom drove me back to her house in Crossville. I was determined not to let it get the best of me, and despite strong urgings from nearly every person in my life to wait, I insisted on returning to work for the 5am shift the day after Christmas. I did nothing but sleep for the next two days; on Christmas Eve, Dr. Webber called to check on my recovery post-op. He assured me that all things considered, I was in good shape & that he would call again in a few days with my lab results. I celebrated the baby Jesus with my family on the 25th and returned to Knoxville that night to prepare for work the following day. 

If you are squeamish or easy embarrassed, you might want to skip to the next paragraph...okay...you've been warned. The location of the incision couldn't have been more ideal, at least from the standpoint of the surgery & recovery. If you were to place your hand over your heart, as if to say the pledge of allegiance, the area just beside your pinkie finger, near the top outside corner of the left breast, was the location of the mass. Today it's the home of a pretty ugly scar, that at the time, I was promised would one day look like any other stretch mark. I guess they didn't expect me to lose 80 lbs in the two years that followed, but I digress. As with any surgery like this, after the masses were extracted, I had a few stitches and every few hours I would have to change the bandages. Considering I was still taking pain medication, it was probably not very smart to go back to work so soon, but I am nothing if not persistent. I think I made it until about noon before I threw in the towel. I was in so much pain I could hardly see straight. Despite my determination to not be held back, I conceded that I might need a few more days to recoup before jumping back into my old life at full force. 

It was about a week after surgery when I got the call I had been waiting for...my labs were back...and the news was really good! The tumor appeared to be benign (ductal carcinoma aka: DCIS) & because we caught it early, there was little chance that it would return following my treatment. This is the short story, of course, but in a couple of weeks I was scheduled to return to Dr. Webber's office at KCBC where we would follow up on new labs & make plans for radiation therapy. Although I wasn't thrilled with the idea of radiation treatments, I was relieved to know that we were no longer considering a worst case scenario situation. 

A few days before the follow-up consult, I went in for new scans & blood-work. Much to my surprise, when Dr. Webber came in for my appointment he gave me the best possible news, almost a month after surgery, my scans were completely clean & my blood-work was excellent! Other than one duct on the lower side of my left breast, which would need to be monitored each year for potential changes or growths, it looked as though I was out of the woods. And perhaps the best news of all, I didn't need the radiation therapy. We made plans to follow-up again in two months (in March), and then again three months later (in June) and then one last time six months after that (in December). Each time, all of my scans came back clean. 

At one of my follow-up appointments I mentioned to Dr. Webber that I was so lucky that I never actually had breast cancer. I will never forget the look on his face when he turned to me and said, in the most serious voice I ever heard him use, "just because you didn't have to fight, doesn't mean it wasn't there," he went on the explain that although I had a considerably easy battle, which is not typical of the average patient, had I not caught it so early, had I waited until I was 35 or 40 to get my first mammogram, the likelihood that I would beat it was less than half & I would've most likely lost one, if not both my breasts. After everything I had gone through, this was the first time I really accepted that I was a survivor, and one of the luckiest, at that! 

My annual check-ups never cease to raise a few eyebrows and inevitably at least one of the other (older) women in the waiting room will ask me what on earth I'm doing there. I always smile when this happens because I know that the next time they talk to their daughter or best friend, they are probably going to tell my story, and it will probably start with "...you are never going to believe how young this girl I met in the waiting room at the breast center was...!" Eventually my youth won't stand out, but for now, I don't mind the stares & extra attention, especially if it helps others realize they, or someone they love, might be at risk.

I regret that I didn't share my story with more of my friends earlier. If I had told more people 9 years ago when I was living it, who knows how many people might have discovered a potential risk and taken measures to ensure their future breast health? My hope is that young women will understand this isn't always a disease that strikes later in life. With the technology available today, there is no reason the women of my generation should have to fight the way our mothers & grandmothers have. You can get more information about breast health & ways you can help in the fight against breast cancer by visiting ww5.komen.org (Susan G Komen) and www.knoxvillebreastcenter.com (Knoxville Comprehensive Breast Center).  

I continue to get yearly scans to monitor my breast health and this December I will celebrate 9 years of being cancer free. I know many who aren't as lucky, and unfortunately, more than I would like to admit, who've lost the battle. 

I used to be ashamed of my scar. I hated to let anyone see it. Over time, that has changed. Now, every time I look down I am reminded that life shouldn't be taken for granted. 

I believe wholeheartedly that in my life we will see a cure. 
Until then... fight like a girl!