I am pretty sure that breast cancer has cemented me with the reputation of being the girl with the problems. I'm the girl with the dead mom. I'm the girl with the thyroid problem (which in turn, caused the anxiety problem). I'm the girl with the weird allergies. I'm the girl who has the miscarriage on vacation at Myrtle Beach and bums out all her friends . I'm the girl with an undiagnosed back problem for SEVEN years before a chiropractor discovered it was just a pinched nerve in my hip. I'm now the girl with the breast cancer.
A friend of mine, who I love dearly, said to me on the phone after hearing about my allergic reaction to taxotere: "Awww, Lara. It's always something with you, isn't it." Ah son of a bitch. That's not the first time she's said something like that. I know she means well but it comes across as pity to me. Hearing comments like that makes me want to slap my face with my hand. IT'S PITY. It's because I have the reputation as the girl with the problems.
Ugh, fuck me. That's not how I want to be seen or perceived. It's certainly not how I see myself. The seven-year ordeal with my back pain really screwed me, though. Every month, I would get sciatic pain that would just render me completely useless for a couple of days. The pain would extend from my right hip and shoot all the way down to my foot. I lost numerous nights of sleep. I cried. I took Ibuprofen like it was nobody's bizness, and had "sympathetic" family members tell just to take Ibuprofen and get over it. My miracle cure came in the form of my lovely boyfriend (awww, I love my sweetie) taking me to a chiropractor to get an X-ray of my hip. Problem solved. I haven't had that debilitating back/hip pain in almost a year.
Now the evil breast cancer comes along and BAM, again I am the girl with the fucking problems. No no NO. I am tired of it. No more.
My goal for life post breast-cancer: I am going to be the girl who had the problems but is now so full of awesome and win (tm Jo) that you can't help but give me TWO thumbs up when you see me. Seriously. Life gave me lemons, and I'm going to make a Long Island Iced Tea and say "what's up, bitches." Anxiety is not going to rule my life anymore.
More importantly, I am eventually going to stop caring how other people perceive me. Ha.