I don't know how to write a blog.

We all have a story to tell...

So how about mine in a nutshell for you.

In October 2018 I was diagnosed with stage 3 rectal cancer and let me tell you, shit has not been breezy!! In saying that, what option do you have, when presented with said news at 28 years young, other than to hold your head high marching right towards those mother fucking treatments like YOU'RE A BOSS about to totally own it! Even if you don't completely believe it, you're sure as hell screaming it loud enough for everyone to hear, especially them measly little cancer cells mutating in your body.

So far I have overcome tedious daily hormone injections to preserve my precious little offsprings. Managed to make radiation my bitch after 6 weeks of the less desirable, not so sun kissed, daily, butt 'rays'. Stumbled a little 'unwillingly' into early menopause (writing a strongly worded email, achieving me nothing, but at the very least a feeling of instant satisfaction). Tackled rectal surgery like Steve Irwin mid roll* (*google Steve Irwin for reference, this is not a search engine, just a basic blog) (**Okay okay maybe more like Sleeping Beauty awaiting someone to bring me more meds lol). I have had more than my fair share of fingers, cold, bendy, plastic, metal, you name it, things in and around my butt and I think I've 97% nailed the whole knowing when 'never to trust a fart'. Hot tip to anyone undergoing rectal surgery in the near future.... Always have a second pair of underwear on you at all times!

Now QUESTIONABLE if I've nailed the next section, mentally and physically I took quite the dip after playing disney in the hospital bed. Half way done my chemotherapy rounds, battle stance: I'm going to say Pumbaa (you know, out of the lion king). Embarrassing gas, feeling alone in the world... haha. Seriously though, it's actually really tough. No matter how positive you start out or continue to stay, cancer treatment is fucking RELENTLESS. It'll find a way into every little confident creavis of your body while chipping away bit by bit until you are hanging on by the threads of your sweaty tears in a sunday night yin yoga class. The chemicals deplete every last ounce of serotonin transmitted from your brain leaving you feeling nauseous, isolated, defeated and alone.

This bring me to the webpage, I'm not a writer, HELL I can barely spell words correctly let alone use them in the right context. I feel lost often and I have A LOT of time to kill so feeling a pull to share I figured even if I can help ONE person through something, anything, my job here would be complete. Hey! even if no one reads it but it get me through my chemotherapy rounds.... I'll take it!

We all deserve to be living our happy, healthy, positive, best lives so I'll just keep shaking my Pumbaa toosh and sing my way to a positive attitude if I have too.

#cancerdiaries #fuckcancer #blogging #positivemindframe #buttthings #killingtime #ikillplants