The deleted post.

I just wrote a 1,200 word post, and accidentally deleted it.

I told you about how my gene mutation is more complicated than I thought.  How it puts me at risk for not only colon cancer, but also uterine, and cervical cancers.

I told you about how I might have to have a hysterectomy with possible removal of my ovaries.

I told you about early menopause.

I told you about how I want to scream, and break windows, and smash plates.

I told you about how awesome it was to have one of my blog posts picked up on popular parenting website. And I told you about how a few negative comments on that website, in a sea of positive response, left me sad. About how people were mad at me for saying that I don’t believe my cancer is unfair.  About how I wanted to write back to them and say this is MY cancer, I don’t think MY cancer is unfair for ME, in the scope of MY life.

I asked you why we focus on the one spec of dirt on the couch, the one zit on our face, the one patch of gray in our hair, the one bruised banana in the bunch? Why do the negative words cut us down sometimes more than the positive ones lift us up?

I asked you — what makes a woman a woman?

I asked you –if you cut off its branches, is a tree still a tree?

I told you that the forecast is for snow.  That it is getting harder to dream about spring.

I told you that I don’t want to go to the plastic surgeon, the geneticist, the echo appointment, to chemo #5, or chemo #6.  I don’t want to have a hysterectomy, or go into early menopause. I told you that I feel done.

I told you that I am bending in this storm.  That I’m praying for it to pass.  That I am tired of loosing leaves, and worrying about losing my branches.

I told you that I am praying for strong enough roots.

I used a lot of words. And said “fuck” quite a few times.

I told you that I was so stressed yesterday that instead of  taking a migraine pill, I took a sleeping pill — before dinner with my friends.

It was a sad post.  Perhaps a defensive one.  And then I clicked the wrong button and it was deleted.  That made me cry, too.

I am pissed about this.  About all of it.  I wish there was a plate smashing store.

Then at Walgreens today I saw a woman setting up the Easter baskets.  And strangely enough, it made me feel better.  Because I know that this storm will pass. I know that my roots are strong enough, and I have to believe that even if some of my branches are cut off — it just might provide a better view of what is in front of me, of what is out on that horizon.

And i couldn’t help but think of the book “The Giving Tree”.

Even if at the end of this, I am just a stump — I hope I am the type of stump that might offer someone rest.

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18 thoughts on “The deleted post.

  1. I picked up your blog after it was posted on a blog I follow. I liked it. I like you. So many people pretend to be all rainbows and Crap pixie dust when in reality they are hanging on by a limb. You put in perspective some days blow and some days are pretty awsome! Cancer sucks and even though your failing at being the easy breezy cancer chicks most days that’s ok. You reconize it, your not trying to be anything your not. That takes couage.

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  2. Melissa, you WILL get through this. Break plates. Sally Jessie Raphael, talk show host, said she and her husband used to go to thrift stores weekly and buy dishes to break when they were frustrated. You are in my prayers.

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  3. Hi Melissa – I am 36 and have the same type of breast cancer that you have. I also have a gene mutation and two young children and a supportive husband. I can relate to so much of what you have written. My thoughts and prayers are with you. Stay strong. We can do it.

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  4. I think you’re incredible. I found your blog yesterday and I’m so glad I did. It’s unique, refreshingly honest, uplifting, heartbreaking and beautiful all at the same time. So much of what you write I can relate to, although it was my 37 yr old husband who was diagnosed with an ‘incurable’ cancer 9 months ago. It’s given me a bit more insight into what he went through when he endured his 6 cycles of 3 weekly chemotherapy. You’re right it did get harder just like a running race does.
    My husband has just got home from his ‘rehab’ of running up and down a mountain for 6hours in training for an 80km race just 4 months after he completed his chemo.
    Hang in there, you’re an incredible person. There will finally be some light for you at the end of all of this I know it. And thank you.

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  5. My husband gave me a magnet for Christmas that says, “Be truthful, gentle and fearless.” (Gandhi) Looks like you’ve got those things covered. Your spirit is inspiring. Bless YOU!

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  6. HI there young beautiful young lady. Don’t know how this ol’ bag (51) stumbled upon it but am glad I did. I was in your shoes 9 years ago..same blessing, gratefulness loving life when breast cancer came to visit. as they say, it becomes part of you, not who you ARE. We were right in the middle of getting ready to adopt (oh, my hubbies plumbing and my wonky eggs could not make babies) when universal timing hit. dealt with all the chemo crap, just when all done, adoption call came to go overseas to be mom! Our son was 3 years and came with the lovely name of “Vitale”…..LIFE….a few years later, had to lose the ovaries etc but so far, cancer at bay. You are dealing with a lot, you will get through it and writing and sharing is a tremendous healing cathartic thing to do. Say it like it is….break plates, cry, shout, dance plaster your bald head (if you still don’t have “leaves”) with temp tattoos …..mine became a daily art installation…vaseline sticks anything to it. laugh………..
    ………hang in……
    regards from one corner of world. your life and spirit matters.

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  7. I hope you get through this and win the fight against cancer. By reading your blog I can tell you are a beautiful person. In my opinion, you feeling like your cancer is not unfair to you is because you are a very humble person. Humility is a great quality. It is wisdom and beauty, strength and perspective. I hope you win, because the world needs more people like you. Your family needs you. And your students need you.

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  8. I read one of your posts because someone reposted it on FB. It led me to read your entire blog within a couple of hours (save for stops to make dinner, clean up, change the litterbox, you know….). I think you are amazing and brilliant and fabulous and you sound like someone I want to be when I grow up (I just turned 36 too). You are wonderful and you are loved. You’ll be in my thoughts and prayers.

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  9. Hi
    After reading your post on scary mommy, i thought you were such an amazing person and I had to check out your blog. I’m sorry that a few negative commenters have brought you down and that you are going through a rough time.
    I lost my mom to cancer six years ago. When she was diagnosed, she apologized for putting me through it, a sentiment you also expressed. You do not have to apologize, as I’m sure your wonderful family would tell you.
    Please try to remember what an awesome person you are. And take care.

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  10. It breaks my heart that you have to go through all of this. I want to do more, to take it away.
    I’m certain you are a mighty oak, with a deep root system. Your roots are strong enough!!!
    Love and light!!!

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  11. “A tree stands strong not by its fruits or branches, but by the depth of its roots.”
    ― Anthony Liccione

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  12. Melissa – I just read through your blog. You are a good writer – you stir hearts & minds with your words. You are so beautiful and you have a beautiful family! I’m glad you take care of each other. My prayer for you is to be strong and of a good courage. Hold on.

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  13. I don’t really know what to say (uh so why leave a comment?). You’re a great writer and an incredible person. I am at a loss because I know my comment here probably can’t do much to lift your mood. Your kids laughter does that, your parents babysitting, your husband holding your hand, your friends calling, your students learning…that’s the best stuff. I guess I just wanted you to know your readers are feeling. Your writing and life is inspiring deep feelings in us out here. So thank you.

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  14. Melissa, You have every right to be pissed and hurt! People just have to get their two cents in, and usually it is negative! And Bullshit! This is not about those other people who want to kick your blog when you are down-it is as you say, your cancer. You know I heard a wise thing one time: “What other people say about me behind my back is none of my business.” I think this blog comment fits into that. Maybe not behind your back, but gutlessly in cyberspace. Anyway F*** ‘EM. Hope you are feeling better mentally, spiritually and physically.

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