Sunday Stroke Survival:No Turkey Neck

Not me!I googled it.

Here I go again. I'm looking at the bright side of battling cancer.

One of the definite signs of aging is getting a turkey neck. Gravity is not your friend as you age. Everything sags. Your skin loosens as a result and the lower collagen starts to tell your age. Your boobs sag towards your belly button, your upper arms begin flapping, your bottom develops a flattened downward angle, and the skin on your jaw and neck forms puddles of loose skin.

I had noticed the former begin to show in my own mirror. My looks were changing. I doubt my own grandchildren would recognize me because I didn't recognize myself. I looked so old. When did that happen?

But getting back to my turkey neck, when I had my thyroid surgery a few months ago, my turkey neck disappeared! They had to cut out my previous scar out and it pull my neck skin tighter. Bonus of having cancer.

The surgery wasn't plastic surgery but the results were the same. My incision is just below the upper picture and right at the bottom picture cuts off. In effect I had plastic surgery without the insurance exclusion. Of course, unlike plastic surgery, there is a scar.

Thyroid cancer tends to metastasize to the lymphatic system, breast, lungs, and brain first. Well, with the lockdown most of us has suffered through, I need my hair cut anyhow. Wohoo, another breast reduction surgery and I'll lose weight without having to diet. Same thing with Chemo. I'll become svelte, exotic gypsy again. My hair will come back with even more thicker and wavy. Maybe, I'll even lose all of my leg and under arm hairs permanently. Wouldn't that be a joyous thing. No more struggling to shave them. Even more "plastic surgery" with removal of lymphatic nodes under my arms, neck, and jaw lines. I'll be one foxy looking chick after all this. Of course, I'll have new battle scars to show off too because it isn't plastic surgery.

I'm not being flippant. Maybe a little. I know this cancer is serious because it killed my mother. I took care of her and watched as she died. But I've already died once less than a year ago. I'm not afraid to die. Living with the aftermath of strokes has taught me surviving isn't all its cracked up to be. That's not to say, I want to die and won't fight to stay alive...I have and will continue to fight.

You know what they say, prepare for the worst and pray for the best. That's all I'm saying in this post. From previous experiences in battling this disease, I know a positive attitude and laughter is essential in winning the battle. Didn't my own husband live on another ten years after his prognosis of terminal/anytime? It's all about the way you want to live your life and how you want the memories to leave your loved ones. So many happy memories tips the balance in the sense of loss they will feel and grieve with smiles. He taught me that.

I lead by example because someone else showed me the way first through the years.

Nothing is impossible.