Sassy and Fat Deprived

I don’t know what it is about short hair but it dares me to be way more sassy than normal!  I wore redish/orangish pants today with a super trendy navy blue top and a dark lip color.  My past self would have been like, ummm hell no, ain’t gonna happen go back to your safe zone girl.  I’m trying to embrace the new found confidence.  “Let’s go bold,” I repeat to myself!

I also upchuck information from no where.  Complete strangers might compliment me on my hair and instead of just saying, “thank you” I feel compelled to tell them that it’s growing back out from cancer, why?!  They don’t care, I don’t really want to share, but the words just roll right out of my mouth.  Word vomit or sassiness, you take your pick.  I always walk away thinking it’s word vomit.

Perhaps the extra sass comes from the fat that I have to stay under which is 26 grams or less each day.  There are times when I start to see things, mostly visions of bread.  Roadkill has started looking decent as my intake of red meat has dwindled.  I used to save up my fat grams for special items like 8 Nilla Wafers.  Now I celebrate when I hit my other goal of 30 grams of fiber a day because that goal is hard AF!  I had to switch my cereal to Kashi in order to remotely come close to obtaining that.  Since I am not a cereal gal I eat it as a snack.  Who in their right mind eats Kashi Go Lean as a snack, oh that’s me.

The sass could also be from my clinical study coach that breaks down all of my obstacles that I give her about how I don’t have time to go on walks.  I envision her to be this 90 pound Asian woman who has no idea what it’s like to want to work out yet have absolutely no desire.  Like zilch.  I have forced myself out the door the last two nights and tonight it was hot.  95 degrees hot.  Hot enough to make this white girl want to peel off her yoga pants and lay naked under the ceiling fan while trying not to grab a stench of my sweaty self, hot AF.  Did I mention I still have hot flashes?!

Or perhaps I am finally channeling my inner GI Jane that I felt when I first took my hair right before chemo.  I wish I could have lived in that moment forever where I felt untouchable.  It was fleeting but perhaps I am getting that footing back or perhaps I just care less and less about what people think.  I think it’s the latter part for sure.  There are moments where I run my fingers through my hair and tug on it, just hoping it will grow quicker.  I desperately want to get back to some resemblance of the normal pre-cancer self that I remember, silly I know.

The sass could also be the overwhelming surreal feeling that I feel when I look back on pictures of myself from a year ago.  The unsuspecting me, the one who didn’t know her life was about to be turned upside down, and then shook beyond belief.  It’s emotional for sure and I think sass spills out to keep myself from crying.  I’ve shed a few more tears sitting alone in my car at lunch surfing the “on this day” past photos on Facebook than I would care to admit.  Shit is getting deep for me in the emotional department as I approach the one year mark.

Of course I do get emotional over the lack of bread I can eat too.  I was told to look for whole wheat, high in fiber bread.  I stared at it sitting on the shelf at the store with visions that it tasted like cardboard and fungal debris.  I couldn’t bring myself to actually purchase any.   I mumbled under my breath, “stupid ovaries you failed me, we used to eat all the bread we wanted.”

When I think of sassy I think of being bold.  That’s a word I could use to describe the visit with my doctor today.  I have a small sinus cold that just isn’t going away so I made time to go see my doctor today.  No more minute clinic experiences for this lady, that’s for sure!  I let him know that I would pop open a tent and sleep in his office if he didn’t prescribe me some antibiotics.  By the smirk on his face I could tell that he partly thought I was funny, partly thought I was a lunatic, with a hint of terror that I actually may just do what I told him I would.  He wrote me a script.

May I channel that inner sass for the next couple of months as I approach my one year mark.  Emotionally it’s going to be a roller coaster.  There will be more days sitting in my car, alone thinking of the past, how far I have come and the fear that is still left in me, more than anyone will ever realize.  Being a cancer survivor isn’t glitzing, it’s hard.  Harder than anything I have ever known, emotionally, spiritually, and definitely physically.  It brings the inner sass out that’s for sure or otherwise I’d cry in public and no one wants to see that.

Raise those cabernet glass and channel your inner sass with me!  Don’t actually eat any roadkill!


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