six words: b-day weekend

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confessions of a slow-baked couch potato

I am so busy doing nothing, that the idea of doing anything — which as you know, always leads to something — cuts into the nothing and then forces me to have to drop everything.

~ Jerry Seinfeld

 

I just might be a hardcore couch potato.  There, I said it.  The truth is, I love to sit around.  Of course, I’m not exactly doing nothing.  I do a lot while I lounge about.  Talking, reading, writing, thinking – these are my favorite pastimes and conveniently all can take place from my living room sofa.

(Does anyone remember that children’s show The Big Comfy Couch?  Well, my dust bunnies might be bigger.  Seriously.  Oh, and I wish I had as much cool stuff tucked under my cushions as Loonette the clown does, but there’s just lint...and aforementioned dust bunnies.) 

Don’t get me wrong, I have to get up off the couch plenty.  I exercise, run errands, do laundry (now and then), cook for and feed various people, even clean once in a while.  Okay, all kidding aside -- I don't channel surf, nor do I gorge on junk food and I’m also an animated person in my demeanor.  People even describe me as energetic and enthusiastic...and I am, just not by inclination. Yes, if only they knew the truth, that by nature I’m more of a sloth.  Now, sloth is considered a sin by some and a trait to be ashamed of.  I guess I have been embarrassed by my slothiness at times.  Everyone else seems to be so busy that I tend to feel a little guilty.  Or at least, I used to. 

We live today in a culture of busy is better.  Ask someone how they are, and more than likely the answer will be “busy” – complete with the litany from an exceedingly long to-do list.  This is not necessarily a good thing.  An article in the NY Times last summer refers to busyness as trap, even further, as a means of hedging nothing short of existential angst.  I’ve noticed that the complaint of being over extended is almost treated as a badge of honor.  Everyone is trying to cram so much living into their lives that they aren’t actually living IN their life – instead they are continuously burying every present moment with frenetic activity, and often as a means for distraction.  

(There are people in this world for whom free time truly is a luxury.  They work harder in order to survive than most of us can possibly imagine.  People in those circumstances are obviously not busy for the sake of being busy.  To them, no doubt, this could all sound churlish or elite;  they should have such problems.  Mindful of that let me just say – busy is clearly relative.) 

As I blogged about recently, during breast cancer treatment I did a lot of reflecting on what mattered most to me.  When my mortality seemed immanent I didn’t care about projects I’d never complete, activities my kids didn’t participate in or how messy my house got (as if).  Every single ounce of guilt or expectation went right out the window.  Think about that -- no expectation, no guilt.  It was a rare opportunity, a moment of unprecedented clarity for me.  And as I went thru the mental files of my life I realized some of the best memories were the times I just sat still and talked with my children...listening to all their thoughts, great & small.  It was those precious moments with no agenda, no pressure to accomplish anything, that gave me great joy.   

I’m not suggesting everyone sit on their couch and vegetate for the sake of happiness.  Things need to get done, sometimes a lot of things...and sometimes we want to engage physically.  Being active is healthy; in fact, it’s one of my personal goals, to be more active.  But it’s another goal of mine to let go of as many inessential activities as possible...to gently cull from my life what is unnecessary, because being busy is, in my opinion, decidedly not better. 

Kids need ample unstructured time to let their imaginations grow...and so do us grown-ups.  We need time to slow down, to stare out the window and day dream, to be creative not as a means to an end but for the sake of creativity itself...we need time just to let our minds wander...we need time to be.  Socrates said an unexamined life isn’t worth living.  If you are too busy filling every moment with a flurry of activity then there’s no time to examine anything to begin with, let alone much of any substance worth examining when all is said and done.  Busy is not only not better; it can be the very thing that, instead of filling your life, leaves you completely empty.

I found out there are others interested in letting go of busy, such as those in various slow movements --slow food, slow home, heck, there’s even slow fashion!  But truthfully I feel like some of these slow advocates are still too ambitious for a slacker like me.  Perhaps my speed isn’t slow, it’s off -- as in turn off everything, sit down and settle back for a bit, get reacquainted with your family, your friends...and your own self, too.    

Like at this very moment...I am sitting (where else) on my couch typing these words.  My kids will be up soon, and the first thing they will do is come sit next to me, curling into my waiting arms all groggy and still warm from sleep.  I’ll put this laptop aside and breathe them in, take a moment to absorb the sweet scent of childhood in its precious brevity.  We’ll talk about what they dreamed last night and what they want to do today.  I’ll remind them we have chores and schoolwork, but after that the day, this day, is ours.  We’ll begin it from this place of centering, the middle of our lives and our home, this humble, slightly sagging, well-worn sofa.  The dust bunnies will be there, too, lurking...and that’s okay.  They can hang around for a little while longer...I don’t mind.  I have more important things not to do.

 

 

define this

Someone asked me recently if I was going to go back to posting daily outfit pix. I don’t think so, though I’m sure I’ll do one now and then. I guess the nature of this blog has changed a bit...as I have, certainly. Then came the question, are you going to change your blog name? I hadn’t really thought about that.  Does the name, Fashionably Later still fit?  

I’ve been getting back to basics on many fronts in my life so maybe I should try including this blog in that effort, too. Since one of the first rules of blogging is to find your niche, that means you need to define yourself. I decided to start there.  For inspiration I searched on the present name of this blog, Fashionably Later, and I got...well, my blog, but after that came a review in the Boston Globe of the Sex In The City movie from 2008 and some tumblr picture of a person wearing cut-off denim shorts. Not exactly helpful. So instead I tried Googling the phrase of origin, Fashionably Late.  Here is some of what came up from that:

 

-The refined art of being just late enough.

 

-When you show up late, so everyone will think you have a life.

 

-Getting noticed by arriving at that time, in other words standing out by being late.

 

-Arriving late to an event to give the impression that you are a busy, popular person.

 

I kinda like the first one. The second one made me laugh -- none of them really helped, though.  Maybe I should go back to the beginning. When I started Fashionably Later it was supposed to be a fun little wardrobe diary for a middle-aged mom, with a small slice of life tossed in now and then. I wanted to rebuild my confidence and prove that style was something any woman could create regardless of her size, vocation, budget or age. It wasn’t about making a major fashion statement...it wasn’t about fashion at all, not in the sense that word is typically used. For me this was about one woman’s "re-found" desire to look her best as a simple act of personal empowerment, and doing so a little later in life. I shared it for entertainment, and because I thought just maybe it would inspire someone else in a similar situation...you never know.

 

But then a funny thing happened on the way to the style blog – I got diagnosed with breast cancer. And what I had intended as a positive but fairly lighthearted endeavor quickly became something very different.

 

I wrote about my cancer journey, about my life, about things way beyond what I was wearing. And the people who once commented on outfit choices or accessories now were leaving me the most amazing comments that carried me through the worst time of my entire life. They gave me hope, they cried with me, they uplifted me and some even kept vigil when I wasn’t here. I “met” other women with cancer as well as a slew of talented and supportive writers...a diverse little gathering coalesced for me here. The outpouring from my tiny corner of the blogosphere was one of the most touching things that has ever happened to me. I’ll never forget it. Never.

 

A lot has changed since my cancer diagnosis four years ago. I’ve changed, my body has changed, my goals, even my tastes have changed. In some ways perhaps for the better, but to be honest, in many ways I still mourn for the woman I once was. I miss her. Of course, everything always changes...you don’t need cancer to have that happen. That’s just life.

 

As I try to find my voice again and recreate myself I don’t completely know what is in store for this blog (let alone anything else). I don’t see it returning exclusively to style commentary or a wardrobe diary, but I’m not ready to say goodbye to all that completely either. There are so many other things I want to write about, too, things I've got on my mind.  Perhaps despite typical blogging advice I shouldn’t focus on finding my niche or defining this blog any more than I should try to strictly define myself. I don't need any more limitations at this point in my life.

 

I've decided for now not to worry about descriptions anymore.  This is who I am, this is what I like and here’s what I feel like writing about. It might not always be cohesive, but I'm still doing it with my own sense of style...and definitely a little later than I had originally planned. Based on that, the name Fashionably Later still fits pretty well, I think -- so I guess in the end some things haven’t changed that much after all ;)

 

six words: motherhood

 

blessed twice, and twice as blessed

 

May all devoted to the art of mothering,

in any way...have a lovely mother's day tomorrow!!!!

fair day and another step begun

The title above refers to a young adult novel and the ballad it was loosely based on, neither of which at first glance really have anything to do with this blog. 

I read the book as a young person and the title always stuck with me.  All I recall about the plot is that it was a love story where the heroine had an almost unshakable faith in her destiny & was willing to do whatever it took to fulfill it.   

That doesn’t describe me much lately.  But when I thought about coming back here to blog again those words kept echoing in my mind...perhaps because they resonate as a statement of moving forward, and that’s what I want to do.  It’s what I am doing, a little at a time. 

Since the end of cancer treatment I’ve been lost.  Really lost. The same lost I refer to in some of my last blog posts -- here it is two years since then and to be honest not much has changed on that front.  I find myself wondering if maybe this is the kind of lost some people never quite find their way back from.  And I also wonder now if that really matters anymore. 

The directionless funk that has permeated my life these last couple years drove me into a depression.  I have been wallowing in fear, pointlessness and if only’s.  I functioned, but beyond that....?  Not much else.  Nothing has made sense; nothing has drawn me back into my own life.  

At first I thought if I could find my way again, whatever that meant, then I could get back to this (or perhaps some other) blog and maybe the rest would fall into place.  Writing in some form is a fundamental part of who I am, so without it I don’t feel like me.  But weeks turned into months turned into years and I couldn’t bring myself to write.  The more I couldn’t write, the worse I felt. I just drifted...aimless.    

Dropping this blog was a shame on many levels.  It might sound grandiose but blogging really did give me a deeper sense of connection – to others out there in the blogosphere and to my own sense of self.  Writing for even a small audience clarified my thoughts and feelings...and it showed me the trajectory of my experiences in ways I might not have noticed otherwise.  And...it was fun :) 

Not to mention I’ve “met” some of the most amazing people EVER.  When I went back and read some of the comments left thru the years it brought me to tears.  I’ve been blessed.  And I am filled with regret over not staying in touch.   

Anyway, lately it has slowly dawned on me that being lost might not be the worst thing to happen, both to a person and a blog.  In fact, I’m guessing there are plenty of other people out there who feel the same way.   So, I have no idea what this is about, but I’m gonna figure it out as I go along, one post...one step at a time.  And, why not?  It’s a fair day, and this is another step begun.

once in a pink moon

Saturday, April 27th  falls just on the waning side of the full moon -- a moon that is appropriately known as the "pink moon"...apropos for me, that is, because it will be the four year anniversary of my breast cancer diagnosis.   

I was actually planning a blog post last week, the first in almost two years.  But then the terrible bombings in Boston happened.  It just didn’t seem the right moment to inaugurate what I hope will become a new era for my simple little blog.   

I’ll put that post up after the weekend, but in the meantime I wanted to take a moment to talk about one of the many heroes to come out of Boston. 

Today I was deeply moved, as I’m sure many were, by the interview with Heather Abbott...particularly the part where she referred to how futile it was to dwell on the negative or focus on all the "what ifs".  That hit me hard - but in the best possible way.   I've done my fair share of obsessing over things that cannot be changed. 

Her eloquence and determination to move forward despite her injury was very natural, indicative of the inherent spirit of bravery she possesses.  Heather Abbott is the epitome of grace...a fitting topic for this, my first new blog post as I begin trying to pick up the pieces of my own life.

 

Since the pink moon heralds the renewal of spring, may it shine graciously on all of us... 

 

 

 

 

And then...

…six months went by.

How often have you come across a blog that was abandoned and desperately wondered what happened? As someone who frequented cancer related blogs, when ever I would read one that stopped abruptly I would naturally fear the worst.

But the worst has not happened to me. Cancer-wise? So far, basically, so good.

My husband’s health, on the other hand, went south and fast. He has had some serious autoimmune issues. More doctors, research, procedures. And this has thrown me for a loop, perhaps even more so than my own cancer. Like the kind of loop that leaves you upside down and makes you question the very essence of…everything.

In the last six months I've felt at times that there was no goodness left for me in life. I have felt that there was nothing I could say, or write, that wouldn’t ring hollow because I was hollow. And I feared I was emptied beyond refilling.

I kept trying to find that new normal everyone always talked about during surgery and treatment, the one that I thought would inevitably come once it was finally all over. Except that it’s not really over, and in many ways it never will be. Still, I tried to blend that ideal of a new normal with the memory of the old version to create something new for the rest of my life. But I have just been so lost I couldn’t do it. I guess that’s really it – I’ve been profoundly lost. Hopelessly off course beyond finding my way.

So, this is me looking for something familiar, trying to find my way again. Trying, however tentatively, to move forward.

To all those who so lovingly supported me before, if any of you still pass by this way, I’ve missed you, I’ve thought about you and I’m sorry for temporarily abandoning this blog. I never abandoned you, though, not in my heart.

A totally cancer-free post

TEN THINGS ABOUT ME:

I am both a neat freak and a slob –like I’ll complain that Michael didn’t put the tea back exactly where it belongs when the entire kitchen looks like a bomb hit it.

I have no hesitation about public speaking whatsoever. I’ll address a crowd of just about any size in a heartbeat.

I love cemeteries -- I espcially like to find a quiet spot where I can just sort of gaze out over all the headstones and the grounds…for some reason a cemetery view always seems to inspire me to write poetry.

One of my favorite songs to sing is Amazing Grace – yet I’m not Christian. Oh, and if I hear it played on the bagpipes I become a sniveling puddle.

My favorite place to be in the world is Cape Cod, Massachusetts…particularly Wellfleet or Provincetown. Spending time traversing those windswept dunes or strolling the quaint cobblestone streets fills me with a sense of belonging and peace.

If I had to choose one last meal it would probably be a burger, fries & chocolate shake (the vegan versions, of course).

Summer is my least favorite season – I absolutely hate the heat. Autumn is my favorite time of year.

Parting with books is very hard for me… I’m trying to be less sentimental and have managed to give away a few, but books are like old friends -- even the ones that I’ve outgrown are hard to part with because of the memories.

I’ve only left the country twice – both times to Canada. As a kid I spent two weeks in Ontario and then after graduation I spend three months working as a nanny for a wealthy family in their Quebec summer home.

I actually like cloudy, gray days almost more than sunny ones. There’s something about the way other colors pop against a silvery gray sky that speaks to me aesthetically.Thanks so much to lovely Lesa at Always Summer who gave me the two awards below, I’m honored – and I also can't tell you how good it was to do a fun post having NOTHING to do whatsoever with breast cancer -- gosh I really needed that!

Now I’d like to pass the awards on to the following fantastic blogs:

Already Pretty
The Small Fabric of My Live
Utah Savage
Ephemera
The Blue Kimono
Tessa Scoffs
La Belette Rouge
notSupermum
The Writing Instinct
Shallow Coffee
Brenda's Blog From Paraguay
Udarata Kella
Inside Out Style
Goodbye to Boobs
Stumble Into Style

Beautiful Blogger Award rules: - Thank the person(s) who nominated you and give a link to their blog. Copy the award and paste it to your blog. Pass this award on to 15 fantastic bloggers you have discovered.

Rules for Sugardoll award: Thank and link the person who gave you the award. Pass this award onto fabulous bloggers of your choice. Contact said blogs and let them know they've won. Re-post and state 10 things about yourself.

A year ago today...

...on April 1st, 2009 while touching my breast as I was about to nurse my son I felt a bean-sized lump. I tried not to worry, thought maybe it was something breastfeeding related, but knew I needed to get it checked right away. My primary care doc is less than a mile from my house so I decided to just show up first thing and get a script for a mammogram. As I sat at my dining room table the next morning waiting for her office to open I continued to absentmindedly feel my breast. It was then I found the other two lumps. I looked at my husband with sudden clarity and said, “I’m screwed.” It took 26 more days to get the diagnosis of invasive ductal carcinoma.

Since that day last year I have had a mastectomy and reconstruction, discovered the cancer spread ever so slightly to my lymph nodes and have gone through the wound healing process from Hell thanks to skin necrosis. I experienced an SVT after port placement, had almost a dozen chemo infusions and now have been diagnosed with lymphedema. To say this last year sucked more than any other year of my life would be the understatement of all time.

But I’m still here. My kids still have their mother.

That doesn't mean I am positive or grateful or even contemplative. That doesn't mean I haven't cried my eyes out a dozen times just this week alone. It just means that I know I have to hang on, there isn't any other alternative.

So today I will go to the infusion room at the hospital for treatment and joke around with the nurses and all my chemo comrades. We’ll hang out in our vinyl recliners while poison drips into our veins and we’ll laugh…because we always do.

Yup, today I will laugh, and for at least right now, that will have to be enough.

hitting the wall

I have lymphedema, specifically stage 1 truncal lymphedema. I’ve been evaluated and had some physical therapy sessions with many more to come. There is no cure for lymphedema, only management of the swelling – sometimes the swelling can be reversible if caught early, but the lymphedema itself is a chronic condition that is potentially disfiguring and will require lifelong managing.

And that sucks.

Every day I cry. Every day. My depression is presently at a level similar to when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer…similar to the dark days I experienced right after my mastectomy. There are some portions of this journey I have managed to take in stride but this is not one of them at the moment.

Once my initial shock at being diagnosed with breast cancer wore off my innate desire, my goal if you will, was to do everything I could to get thru all the various components of treatment as unscathed as possible and come out on some sort of “other side” – to go back to a semblance of my former, normal life.

With the onset of lymphedema, on top of some of the other obstacles I’ve already faced, I’m realizing now that is not going to happen exactly as I hoped, it just can’t.

Cancer changes everything.

I’m not saying there won’t be a new normal. I will get past this eventually. Adaptation is the greatest gift we humans possess bar none. In fact as a woman without religion I’m often asked what it is I do have faith in and that’s it in a nutshell – our utterly miraculous ability to adapt, to transcend.

But I’m not there yet.

I was very touched by the amazing support I got from my last entry, knowing that so many of you understand where I’m coming from whether you have walked this exact road or not. There is a universal component to suffering; we’ve all had our challenges and had to work to overcome them. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your compassion. Keep it coming, I need all that I can get.

Till next time, thanks for reading…

brief update

Michael here. Kayleigh had round 2 of chemo today, she decided to give it another try. It's been a bit better, but she's still in pretty rough shape.

She has wanted me to update her blog for a while but I haven't had the chance, I'm sorry. She most of all wanted me to say thank you to all the people who have sent her love and best wishes. I've read her some of the comments from the last post and it really seemed to lift her spirits alot. All of you have been a great support for her so I thank you from the bottom of my heart too.

She'll be back to blogging when she can, probably won't be long if I know my wife :)

Hope everyone has a happy new year.

Michael

Post op post

Yes, my intrepid readers, it is me, in the virtual flesh -- or what's left of it!

I wanted to put up a post to say thank you for all your support and encouragement....I've thought of so many of you this last week, you have helped me in moments you might not have imagined. Words you have said came back to me in times when I really needed them.

I am still a total wreck, but each day I see a tiny bit of progress. This has been an even rougher road than I could have possibly imagined.

Aside from the post op illness, I've been told by my mom that my plastic surgeon is an artist, by the visiting nurse that this is the best reconstruction she's ever seen, and by Michael that I look just like me, only beat up :)

I cannot seem to bring myself to look.

The next hurdle, cancer-wise, is to get the final pathology report back all clean -- no node involvement, no NAC atypia, nice clean margins. That is what I am longing for with all my heart. I think once I know that what is there will be staying I can look.

The skin issues are still on the fence, but they are not likely to be dire and seem to be perhaps about ready to turn the corner in a positive direction (fingers crossed)...so feel free to send more capillary vibes please!

Will write more when I can...much love & gratitude!!!!

Fare thee well...

...but not to my breast -- well, not quite just yet, anyway.

That is something I will no doubt continue to write about, here and at my other blogs, intermittently and perhaps perpetually. But today I am thinking about another body part that shall be leaving me. Today I am saying goodbye to my belly, or at least a rather large portion of it.

I will be having a tummy tuck as part of this procedure. It's not optional, not an added bonus like buy one get one free. It's a necessary part of the operation.

If there were one body part I felt suffered the most for the triple ravages of time, pregnancy and obesity, it's my tummy. In fact, ironically, I was just beginning to research the process of having a tummy tuck when I found the first breast lump. It was a procedure I needed to have done eventually, not so much for vanity's sake but for health reasons...suffice is to say that much extra skin isn't easy to deal with and we'll leave the TMI aside for the time being.

So, after a 2nd meeting with my plastic surgeon I found out that not only will all that extra skin below my navel be removed, but the upper ab area will also be flattened out as a result of suturing the remaining muscles.

Wow, I hardly know what to think!

"You do realize," I said to my husband as we left the hospital, "that this means a whole new shopping process when this is finally over?" He just shook his head and smiled.

I mean, nothing will fit me anymore. And maybe I'll be able to tuck shirts in...and I won't have to buy my jeans a size larger just to accomodate my waist -- they'll fit me better right off the rack. When I try on clothes that look good from the front I won't be continually disappointed that the profile view is, shall we say, protruding.

And perhaps the most incomprehensible factor of all...no more dreaded muffin top!

Lest you think I've forgotten why I get this little extra boon and what I have to sacrifice for it, I have not. But still, I can't believe that after all these years....almost 8 years since I lost the weight, I will have a normal looking stomach.

Amazing.

And yet...I find myself nostalgic. I earned that belly. True, that belly began to grow from my depression and discontent, from self-medicating with food a life full of pain and malnourishment. But it also expanded and welcomed my two precious babies, accommodating them safely, proudly, until they belonged not just to me but to the world.

What's left of my former girth is now a flopping, sagging badge of determination...to live, to be healthy, to lose the weight that once filled it up -- no small task, I assure you. It is deflated evidence of how far I have come.

So in closing, perhaps a moment of silence for my soon-to-be-gone belly? It was the best of times it was the worst of times. Thanks for all you've done...and perhaps most importantly, thanks for still being there, for without you I would not be able to fill the empty space left from my mastectomy. If it weren't for you, I'd have no right breast.

So gee, I guess it's not really goodbye after all...more like see ya later. In fact, you'll be closer to my heart than ever before.

To everyone on this day...

To all women who mother...and there are many different ways to be a mother, I wish you a happy, healthy and wonderful day!

And to all of the readers of this blog, male & female, who have certainly mothered me through this ordeal, I send you my deepest gratitude and blessings :)