Understatement of the Year

It's an understatement to say that when your life is turned upside down by something like cancer, your priorities change.  That's like saying that Friends was only mildly entertaining or Donald Trump is just a tad orange.  For me, all of a sudden I quit thinking about things that had, at one time, almost consumed my thoughts and began to think on an entirely new plane.  Let's examine some of these priority shifts, with some jest and a little seriousness sprinkled in:

Botox.  Now hear me.....I've never had Botox.  I don't think I need it for the most part, and also don't judge those of you who have been getting it every 3 months since your 23rd birthday.  But over the last couple years I had started to consider getting Botox in my forehead.  Half of my forehead is partially paralyzed still from the accident....I have car-accident induced Botox on half my forehead, and it's GRAND!  That side hasn't aged A BIT.  The right side of my forehead, however, looks like the paper fan my nail lady used to fan my toenails the last time I had a pedicure.  I wanted to get Botox on the right side of my forehead only, to even them out.  I'll tell you what, though: I haven't thought about Botox once since I was diagnosed. I'm suddenly just fine with my half-paper-fan forehead.

Clothes.  I love clothes and looking cute and stylish.  I like that I'm known as the teacher who looks trendy most of the time.  I don't buy clothes often, but I have a way of grabbing great staple items and jazzing them up with trendy pieces that I change out as styles change.  Since my diagnosis I do still like to look cute, but not in the same way.  I don't care as much about being trendy.  I care more about looking somewhat pulled together and like I got more than 4 hours of sleep the night before.

Being skinny.  There was a time in my early-to-late 30s that I was really skinny.  Too skinny.  And I really liked how I looked.  I liked the size I was and tried really hard to stay that way.  At 38, though, I started to gain a little weight, and for the life of me I couldn't get rid of it.  Come to find out I was gradually going though menopause (long story) so there was nothing I could do about the weight gain. Since my diagnosis, I haven't thought once about wanting to fight back into my size 2 skinny jeans.  I simply don't care about that anymore.  Quite the contrary, I think more about wanting to keep weight on as I go through treatments so I can stay as healthy as possible.

Not asking for help and felling like I need to have it "all together."  I do not have it all together.  I can not and will not ever have it together.  My life is a shi* show most of the time, and I've just had to embrace it.  I'm letting people help me, letting them show up and just do things without telling me or asking first....because that's what I need right now.  My desire to look like the Single Supermom with all the plates perfectly spinning is gone.  I'm fine with the fact all my plates are flying at full speed off their poles, most likely about to shatter on the ground.  It is what it is, and I'm not fighting to maintain an image anymore.