Hi. Where you been? I’ve missed you.
I didn’t know what to expect when I published my blog about my little health scare. When I was writing that blog, I had that familiar sort of in-my-body, sort of out-of-my-body feeling I get when I’m writing as a reflex. When I’m in that weird place, I certainly want to write, but mostly I just HAVE to write. I don’t notice time passing; I don’t want to eat, talk or to be distracted until my word well runs dry.
I felt compelled to share my last story, and I’m not looking back. But, I embrace truth. The truth is, I made myself a little uncomfortable with that story. I used the word “breast” a lot, didn’t I? You know what? I’m not generally a big user of the word “breast”. Actually, I try to avoid naming private body parts out loud, if I can help it. I’m repressed, and I like it that way.
So, I flayed myself open with that story. Once the story was published, I felt spent. Exposed.
Bloggers can keep track of how many people are viewing their blog. You know where this is going, right? Yep. I’ve never had more people read one of my blogs than this “breast” blog. I watched the numbers keep climbing higher and higher. I saw those numbers, and I felt grateful that anyone would spend their precious time reading words I wrote. I also felt embarrassed. I thought, “It will be just my luck. That dumb blog will go viral, and the whole world will be reading about breasts. My breasts.”
The blog did not go viral. The blog probably did not even register as a tiny droplet of water in that great blogosphere pool of blogs. People on the interwebs talk about breasts all the time. Mine are not breaking news. Whew!
Okay…I’m done now. I just wanted to tell you how I felt weird about using the word breast, by continuing to use the word breast. We get each other, don’t we.
I’ve been blogging for more than two years now. That’s a lot of blogs. People sure can change in two years, can’t they? Two years ago, I was a meth addicted prostitute, living in the streets. Remember that?
Naw. That’s not true. I’m just trying to make my blog go viral for real. I’m gonna need more than the word breast to make that happen.
Two years ago, I was a busy, working mom with three kids and a husband. Wow! Still am. Maybe things don’t change as much as I thought.
One thing that did change is this. I used to proselytize about nutrition. Paleo, in particular. In fact, I still have “Paleo” in the title of my blog. I don’t write about Paleo now, and have little interest in sharing what I know about Paleo anymore.
Here’s what I learned from my Paleo preaching days. People do NOT give a crap. Force feeding your ideas on nutrition down people’s throats is the perfect way to win the most annoying friend on Facebook status. I know, because I won that award. The ideal time to share your ideas on nutrition with your friends and family is when they ask you to share. Otherwise, keep her zipped, yappy.
One day soon, the word “Paleo” is coming out of my blog title. Prepare yourself. I know It’ll be kind of a sad day for you.
I’m telling you all that, because, naturally I need to lower your defenses before I talk to you about nutrition. And, you thought I wasn’t clever.
I just wanted to say this. My family will tell you that I’ve always been a bit of a nutrition junkie. Nutrition is very interesting to me, and I spend a lot of my free time reading about nutrition. When I thought I had cancer, I was a little surprised that all the good food choices I have made over the years didn’t offer me protection. Sure, lately I wasn’t as rigid as I was when Eddie was very sick.; still, relative to the rest of the world, I thought I was doing okay.
Before I received the good news that I was fine, I turned into the most fanatical health food junkie version of myself. I told Scott that I was doing a ton of reading, and I’d be darned if I was gonna go down without a fight. He laughed. He said he knows me well enough to know I’d do everything within my power to beat whatever came at me. He probably feared it.
I realize, I’m not fighting for my life anymore. Except, I am. We all are. Another reason I’m grateful for my health scare is that being scared reminded me that I have a decent amount of control over how I feel, and how I age. I mean, I get it, ultimately, I have NO control over how things end. We know any crazy thing can supersede the laws of nature at any moment. But, minus a scary superseder, I AM in control.
I have a renewed fervor for building strength, and protecting the miracle of my interwoven body systems with high quality fuel. This scare we had, reminded me of my belief that nutrition and exercise are my first line of defense.
That’s all I’m going to say. Please don’t block me on FB. I promise I won’t post pictures of my brownies made out of avocado and kale. Scott just gets mad at kale. He’s sorry he knows about it.