The C Word

I have some bad news.  I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just going to come right out with it.  I’ve been diagnosed with breast cancer. 

No, I am not kidding.  Would I kid about cancer?  Okay, maybe I would kid about cancer.  And that, my friends, is what is known as poetic justice.  Cancer has a vast network of spies.  Be careful what you say.

I’ve struggled with whether or not to bring this up on the blog.  This is a food blog, after all, not a cancer blog.  And I don’t want this to become a cancer blog (not that there’s anything wrong with that).  But this blog is about my life through food, and if I censor my life too much, then it doesn’t feel honest.  Plus, logistically speaking, it was going to be tricky to hide it.  Sooner or later you were going to wonder why all of my dinners of late have been composed of 50% potato chips and 50% tequila.  The increased unexplained absences might seem suspicious given my previously consistent blogging schedule.  And the mood swings.  My god, the mood swings.  PMS is dreadfully boring by comparison. 

So, here I am with cancer (WTF?) trying to figure out what the hell this means for the future.  I have to assume that there will still be food to write about as I adapt to my new reality.  We still have to eat.  I still want to cook.  It will be more important than ever to eat healthy.  I’d like to keep things as normal as possible for my family and for me, and the blog could be an important part of the equation.  But, I really can’t say at this juncture what’s going to happen.  I’ve pretty much lost my appetite since I found out and most of the stuff I’ve written since isn’t fit for print, even by lowly blog standards. 

On the bright side, breast cancer isn’t automatically the death sentence I initially thought it was.  There are plenty of survivors who tell a happy story.  My goal is to be one of them.  And if I fall short of that goal, well, I’m still going to write the ending however I want, so fuck you, Cancer, you dick.  Surgery is next week and then at some future point a bunch of radioactive chemical cocktails will be prescribed.  Or something.  (I didn’t hear any of the words after they said cancer.)  I might have some posts  on the topic planned for this week since I have a few things to get off my chest, so to speak.  But then I have a guest blogger in the works to keep you guys entertained post-surgery.  I hope to find my way back to writing eventually.

Anyway, let’s not completely lose all perspective on the matter.  I mean, it could totally be worse.  It could have been cancer of the c-word!

Comments

[Jane]

I'm so sorry about your diagnosis. Thanks for sharing it with us so we can all send healthy and positive thoughts your way! Keep fighting, knowing that we're all fighting with you!

[Su-Lin]

All my thoughts are with you! You can do it!

[melch]

Best wishes, Tammy!

[Sarah]

Here via Finslippy and now sending many "fuck cancer" thoughts in your direction. Very best of luck with the surgery and treatment.

[Sally]

I'm adding my well-wishes to you along with these lovely people. Good luck with the surgery and stay strong. We await your return to good health. Love to you, hunny.

[Free]

Keep your head up and keep looking at life in the funny way you always do!

[Erin]

Put on some boots and get ready to kick its ass! Healthy thoughts to you.

[Erin]

Okay. My mother-in-law had stage 4 cancer when my hubs and his brothers were in elementary school. And you know what? She made it. She's doing awesome. She hasn't had a recurrence. You can do this. Beat the shit out of that cancer! Thoughts and prayers are with you.

[kari]

we'll all be telling cancer to FUCK OFF for you!

[Sis]

Dude... do you see the impact you've had? Over 50% of your comments had swears in them! That's fucking awesome (51%)!

[jasmine]

You will make it through this!!!

[Catherine]

I'm so sorry. I enjoy your blog whatever you write about, so if you did choose to write about your treatment and recovery I'd be right there with you.

[Erin]

Fuck cancer, indeed! All best thoughts and wishes to you.

[Laurel]

I've enjoyed reading your posts for a few years now and I'm sorry to hear about your cancer. Please take care of yourself and I wish you the best of luck in fighting the disease.

[ashley]

You can totally kick Cancer's ass. There is no doubt in my mind that you will pull through it. I know many of women who have come through just fine, and I'm positive that you will be one of them.

[Susanna]

Well you already know what I think, and I cried when I got your e-mail, and now I'm crying again because look at all these awesome people chiming in - I hope this huge comment board helps in some small way, you know how much I'm thinking of you. Go kick ass and call when you need reinforcements of any kind.

[Lurker fan]

dear Ms. Onthefood,
total lurker, totally keeping you in my thoughts.
you got me believing in MA CSAs after moving back from a 2 yr stint in CA, and being spoiled rotten by local food there.

[Holly]

Oh, Tammy, I'm so sorry to hear this. I will read what you write whenever you want to write it, and I'm sure any guest writers will be fabulous, too. You have many people in your corner, and we're not looking for dust! :)

[Lesli]

Hi, I've been a recent reader (lurker) and wanted to wish you the best. Good luck with your fight!

[Chiara]

Not only are you going to beat this cancer, I know that you're going to come out of it stronger, which is saying a lot for someone already as tenaciously kickass as you. My friend's mom was diagnosed with breast cancer when my friend was just 2 years old. 26 years later and her mom hasn't ever seen cancer since. You are a survivor; you'll be a survivor. And I'll be thinking about you through it all.

[Mary]

This is a total bummer for you. Keep your chin up and keep us posted on how you're doing. If you need anything just ask...

[Marge]

Everyone who said that cancer sucks has it exactly right. Surgery, chemo and radiation all suck - there's no way around it (although radiation doesn't seem so bad once you've gone through chemo). Exercise - whatever you can do, even if it's just walking around the block - and being with people who love you and make you laugh will help. I'm still around and healthy, 8 years later, and I hope you will be too. I wish you all the best.

[adele]

Shit. I'm sorry.

I wish you luck, and a swift recovery.

Let me know if I can help. (I'm out of town for a few months, but I'll be back at the end of August.)

[Jane]

Fuck.

Stay strong, think positive. I have a feeling you're going to kick this thing in the ass!

By the way, your bad news was the shock it took for me to pick up the phone this morning and finally schedule my long-overdue mammogram.

[Pete]

I'm proud of you and this posting, Tammy - FIL

[MidLifeMama aka Michele]

Hey there. Michele, Cooper's mom, fellow meat CSA person and your neighbor here. Dude. That SUCKS big time. If you need ANYTHING I am a block away. Call, email, send a turkey or vulture gram my way, whatever. You need someone to carry groceries up those evil steps of yours, I will send Bob over. Suddenly unemployment (Bob's) seems a minor inconvenience. ANY.THING. Perhaps blog entries about food that is supposed to kill cancer. Or help you deal with chemo related nausea. UGH. SUCKS.

[houllie]

dear tammy,
it's hard to find the right words after those terrible news but I just wanted to let you know that I am thinking of you and that I wish you loads of luck and good karma in fighting cancer. we already know that you are strong and a dreaded enemy, but it's also allowed to be weak. and I have the feeling that now it's time for us, your readers, to give something back to you after all the joy and laughter that you had brought to us. so, don't censor yourself: we'll be there to listen to you when you feel all small - hoping that we might be of some help with our words of support.

[Anita / Married ...with Dinner]

jeez, I get behind in my blog reading for one lousy week and all hell breaks loose.

We're all standing on the sidelines cheering for you, waiting patiently for when you feel like eating/cooking/blogging.

Kick this cancer's ass, OK?

[Becca]

Tammy, I don't even know you but this breaks my heart. I adore your writing, your spirit, and your recipes. Thanks for sharing so much of your life with total strangers. You've got a whole creepy army of invisible readers rooting for you. Go fuck yourself, cancer.

[Euclydes Santos]

This is the first look I take at your blog. Can`t say I enjoyed the first post I read. But, let me tell you one thing: my mother was diagnosed breast cancer some 30 years ago. And we live in Brazil, a third world country. Thus, I can barely imagine the wonders American medicine can do. I think that Mom`s secret is related to passion for life and never giving up.

Hei, I want to see some new posts on food...please, feed my body and soul.

[Tammy]

Wow, you guys. Thank you for all of these amazing comments. I don't have the words.

[jo]

Tammy, I'm just now catching up on my reading and I was shocked when i saw this, but it is obvious that if anyone will get through this with a sense of humour it will be you. Sending good thoughts your way.

[Marsha]

Hey Tammy,

Just wanted to respond to the 'this is a food blog not a cancer blog' thing. When my size 12's started getting snug, I decided perhaps it would behoove me to remove all the food blogs from my RSS reader. I couldn't remove yours though because you're just so hilarious and brilliant. I'm sure I'm not the only one who considers this The Tammy Blog, which we would read whether you were writing about oatmeal cookies or the mating habits of the conger eel, or cancer.

And fwiw, I know this woman who got breast cancer and since she had a family history opted for a total mastectomy. They reconstructed her boobs out of her belly fat. She looks freaking amazing.

Take care of yourself. we'll be here whenever you feel like coming around.

[Julie]

I am very late to this, and it feels pretty useless to have nothing but good thoughts to offer but sending much and many good thoughts your way none the less.

[Judy]

Hey Tammy - I am kind of a lurker who really loves your blog; your writing totally cracks me up -- sometimes I just think about "upside down chicken" during the day and laugh. It helps a lot. And who else would call cancer a dick? Brilliant. Hang tough!

[Elizabeth Caffrey]

On the day I read this I was scheduled for an MRI. Which lead to an ultrasound which lead to a biopsy which lead to a positive result.

I join you in the fight to end all fights and wish you nothing but success!

[kc]

I am a fellow food blogger who was diagnosed with cancer 7 months ago. I just finished up my treatments last week. I wish you best of luck in your journey!

[yasmin]

hi. hmmm. found you today, read back through some of your posts, and well, you are pretty amazing. i found you through ruth's tweet (how amazing to get a shout-out!) but that's not why i'm following you there or here on your blog now. it's cuz you seem great and we're both obsessed with food.

my very very very good friend is just finishing up her hormone therapy which followed radiation, chemo, a double mastectomy and you two have the same strength and sense of humor, i swear. i know that's why she is doing just fine right now, and why you will be in the same great place a year from now too.

nice to meet you.

yasmin