GLORY DAYS

I've been told that there comes a day after a major surgery that you wake up and feel 100% (ok, 80%) better. My turn-around-day was last Friday. Thurs I was fairly miserable. Friday I was me again. It was nothing less than glorious. Don't get me wrong, I still get tired & sore quickly and at the end of the day I move like a 90 year old, and I definitely need a few more weeks off work to make sure I get all these photo albums finally done, but the bruises are definitely fading to yellow-- I can even drive now. So I am giving myself this quasi-well but still off work time as an (almost) guilt-free gift to myself (happyhappydays). I still can't pick up anything (i.e., Liam). which sucks (especially for jim, who has to do all of the 5:30am wake up duties) but he (liam, not jim) is toddling around like a champ these days. He's so proud of himself (liam, not jim).
So, I've been thinking (now that I'm off the drugs, it's a bit easier) when do/did I become a breast cancer survivor? Now that I feel better? (I often think about the fact that the it was the treatment and not the disease that made me feel bad... but that's good, right?) I've still got a few more (small) surgeries to go-- do I wait until after that? I heard that at the Race for the Cure "Survivors" get a special tent and wear a nametag with a number. 2 years... 5 years... 50 years (ohbuti'dliketobethatperson) What's the starting point? When I was diagnosed? (can you believe it's been almost 8 months??!!) The doctors say the tumor was there for years before I found it. (freaks me out, I look at photos of things past and think: "it was there then, and I had no idea" (...whenmyguyswereborn, onmyweddingday, atmygraduation...) It's sort of like when you dated for a long time before you got married and people ask you how long you've been together-- "um, we've been married for 5 years, but we lived together for 2 years before that and dated for 3 before that... what's that add up to?" I've never liked that word-- survivor. I don't know if it's because I don't like considering the alternative, I don't want to be associated with the "stigma", or (maybejustmaybe) because it means I'm done fighting and have to get on with the rest of my life.
Speaking of which, (finally) happy things on the horizon (save the dates):

• Join team TigerOx during the Denver Race for the Cure on Sunday October 8th at the Pepsi Center. You can do the Women's 5K Walk/Run (7:15am) the Co-ed 5k walk/run (8:30am), the Family Fun Walk (9am-less than a mile), or the Sleep in for the Cure. If I get really inspired (I'm off work, afterall) I'll make up t-shirts.
• Come to our Thank the Village Party Saturday October 14th from 3-7 in genesee. It's about time I fed you guys for a change. more info to come on both events but if you're interested in either, let me know.

And finally, some amusing boob anecdotes (TMI alert):

• I don't have feeling in my boobs anymore, and they're a little bigger than they used to be (thank you, extra brownies). In any event, I don't really know my own "boob strength", as it were (potentially a new superpower?) I will knock things off tables, etc. without knowing what I've done until something crashes to the floor. I've heard people say that this whole ordeal has just been an excuse so that people won't hug me, but take this as a friendly warning.
• We were discussing the new airline restrictions the other day and someone said that they have banned gel-filled bras. Does this mean that I wouldn't have been able to get on a plane if I had gone the saline-implant route? (can you imagine?!) Chalk another one up for the belly boob.