Independence Day: Parts One and Deux

Happy Idependance Day from People of Walmart

What's better than one Fourth of July celebration? Two Fourth of July celebrations, of course! Well that's what we're calling this weekend's get-together with the Cantrells, anyway. Because Happy 7th of July is just a weird thing to say. So let's start at the end and work our way back to the beginning, shall we?

Rob put on an awesome pyrotechnics display

Complete with golden shower. Seriously. Who's in charge of naming fireworks? 'Cause I want that person's job.

And a good time was had by all. But mostly by Steph (with her sassy new 'do) and her daughter Aubry.

Speaking of weird things to say? As someone who's been rockin' the Chemo Babe look for three weeks now, I've already had a handful of encounters I most likely would not have had BC (before cancer). On a late night McFlurry run, there was the unsolicited hug from a complete stranger who had lost his wife to the big "C". At a sketchy gas station stop in Leesburg, there was the conversation with an Indian (with a dot, not a feather) gentleman about why I'd shaved my head. The irony of this conversation: his head was wrapped in a scarf and mine was not. And then there was the conversation this weekend with the gentleman who listed for me everyone he'd ever known who'd died from cancer. Including his dog. An Irish Setter, in case you were wondering.

So here's the deal. A cancer diagnosis comes with far more than anyone could ever possibly be prepared for. Sure, there are the tests, the treatments, the good, and the crap days. But sometimes you're also the simultaneous spokesperson and sounding board for anyone who's ever known anyone who's been diagnosed. Fellow blogger puts it best here in her post Bald Like Me.

I love hearing and reading other stories of surviving and thriving. And have no problem with sharing my story. All of the akward questions: ask away! (If I don't know the answer, I'll make up something really convincing.) And your high school best friend's mom's cousin just hit her five year in the clear mark? Awesome! Would I like to email her sometime? Heck yea, bring it on! But the story about your dog's cancerous spine tumor the size of a grapefruit? Perhaps we could hold off on that story. Just for now.

UPDATE (17 July '12): Ann of But doctor...I hate pink! adds some great points on the subject here in Things People Say to Breast Cancer Patients

UPDATE x 2 (20 July '12): Last night I had a really pleasant encounter with a fellow cancer ass-kicker (that sounds so much more fun than warrior or survivor, doesn't it?) at Target. She finished Taxotere and Carboplatin in May, will continue Herceptin until December, and had a lumpectomy in June. And she looked freaking amazing! The funny thing... we were both in the hair accessories aisle.

Wow, so that got way of track. Didn't it? Back to the festivities!

Fourth of July proper was right in our very own backyard. And by backyard, I mean Lake Montclair.

It started with a valient soccer ball rescue.

Then we set up camp on the 15th hole. Did I mention we have a lake and a golf course. And three beaches. But who's counting?

We share our spot on the 15th hole with a lively group of Mormons who come out each year for the fireworks. In exchange, they share their popsicles. Neither of which are pictured here.



Rob (also not a Mormon) is ready for some fireworks.

And look! There they are!

There they are, again!



And again! A 4 minute walk to watch 20 minutes of fireworks? This is where our property owners fee pays for itself.


So what's on tap for this week? A check up with the surgical oncologist this Wednesday. It's been two months since last we met, so it's time to check in and see how well treatment is going. And then Chemo #3 on Thursday. And you know what that means? Half way there! After Thursday, I'll be three down and three to go.

Have a great week!