**Warning** This post not for those who don't want to see a picture.

But the text may be worth the money you'll spend in therapy...

There is a message going around on the book of faces that is, basically, put a heart as your status and don't tell anyone that it means it's breast cancer awareness week.

I have so many feels about this. First and foremost I think we should be angered by the silence that has shrouded Cancer for so long. I'm angered by the passiveness that the message implies, even though I know it isn't meant to incite my anger. And so I have waffled on writing this post. But my struggle isn't one I'm willing to be silent about. Nor is my support for the women I know who are struggling with me. Nor do I think it is fair to the thousands of women and men I do not know who are trying to strengthen their immune systems and body to try and overcome those cancer cells.

This is not something I'm willing to be silent about. My personal struggle isn't always blatantly shoved in peoples daily lives. I really don't want you (nothing personal) to be weighed down by all the feels cancer entails. But I do want you to be aware.

I want you to check the tatas. Right now. Do it!

I want you to involve your SOs in this, too. Have them keep track of how your breasts feel. And maybe you'll both get carried away and take it to the next step. Read *this* post if you need more incentive.

I'm more than half way through my 47th trip around the sun. Age and children have softened my body, and I am definitely ok with all of that. Here I am.

I was tempted to alter this. Tempted, but I choose to be open and honest. I want people to see what it looks like to have a scar. I am so proud of the artist my surgeon is.

What you can't get from this photo is the feelings I have. My right tricep still feels like it is suffering from a deep charlie horse and has felt this way since surgery. Even with the healing that has happened in the last 21 weeks, the pull is strong along the muscles under the scar. Touching the scar is painful and makes my stomach clench. The nerves on the skin surrounding the scar are hyper sensitive and tingle when they come in contact with anything. The small round scar from where the drain was is sensitive, as well. Time has helped, but the sensations are still strong.

Stretching will be a requirement for at least a year. Three times a day. Deep stretching that leaves me realizing that I'm stretching scar tissue. 

I can't even imagine what women who choose to have reconstruction go through. They have to stretch the skin as well as deal with all the things I am.

Seeing myself, rubbing oil into the scar every day, stretching every day. These make it impossible for me to feel like silence is a good thing. Breast cancer people need to know what it's really like. Their family, friends, or whoever their caregivers are need to know what it's really like. I will not let my voice be silent. I will share, even at the cost of the raging introvert within me. I can not keep silent.

I found two lumps about three weeks ago. I've had them poked by my PC physician and the wonderful Amy, my PT goddess. They could be just fluid lumps. This is what I'm hoping for and holding on to. I'm waiting for the schedulers at radiology to call me (and realize that they are likely snowed in today). And I'm trying to hold onto my shit. I went from being dragged down by depression, on the verge of tears; to being on the verge of tears because I'm scared. I want more time. I need more time. I have too much life to live still. And, in my classic fashion, I'm not willing to wallow in the fear for long. I choose to live. I will live in the now and continue to do so to my best abilities. This is the moment I have been given. This one, right now. Here's to living it fully.

Joy comes from living. Today I choose to share it with the three here in my home. And, as you read this, you. There is a ton of snow outside. I have sled down the hill with my family, thrown a few snowballs around, and I have shoveled the sidewalk and the driveway. This is my living.

21 weeks post surgery and I am proud that I did this.

Yes, I am proud. I'm proud that I can use my body still. That even though I feel the physical strain I put on my body today, I did this. That I plucked up wet snow by the shovel full and threw it in piles. I picked up the shovel hundreds of times. My face flushed. My heart raced. My pectorals are still screaming! And I embrace it all. 

The emotional weight cancer brings is heavy. The toll it takes on the body is huge. The toll it takes on the emotional well being of self, family, and friends should not be minimized. 

And I will still live. I will still love. And I will enjoy every moment I can with those in my life, near and far.

I will not be silent. I can't be.

I want you to keep track of your breasts. Get to know them, if you don't already. Do. It. Now. And continue to do it. Not in fear, please. Leave fear on the back burner. Do it in the spirit of discovery and exploration. Do it with love, tenderness, and teasing. And encourage others to do it, too.