A Week of Tears & Fears
Alright, let's dive into the past week, it was a tough one. Physically, I've been holding up okay, but mentally and emotionally? Well, let's just say it's been a bit of a battle.
Show Me The Money
First off, let's talk finances. Last week kicked off our new deductible cycle, and while that sucks we do at least have some funds in our HSA and can defer those payments into a payment plan. But the blow I wasn’t expecting was a $10,000 tax obligation we didn’t see coming. Talk about a gut punch because there’s no deferring that payment. We’ll figure it out… but damn!
While we're going to navigate all of this I can't help but feel like I'm watching the life we've worked so hard to build slip through my fingers. All those dreams of home projects and family adventures? On hold. Even basic spending feels like walking through a minefield. And that little frugal voice in my head? It's on overdrive, questioning every penny spent. “Jen… Do you NEED that?”
Enter the tears, my friends. Navigating all of this was tough, and sometimes you just have to cry about it. But hey, I’m a tough cookie. Navigating the unknown is scary, but this won’t be what takes us down.
Work/Life
Now, onto the work front. With the financial storm brewing, I've found myself considering taking on extra work. Against my better judgment, mind you. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. I just have to be careful not to push myself too hard, because I will not let myself fail.
Then there's the anxiety-inducing Economic Club event I forced myself to go to. Who knew a room full of suits and judgement I’ve been in many times could be so damn intimidating? It hit different walking in as a wig-wearing cancer patient instead of a self-confident business owner. Cancer has stolen my self-confidence, and it sucks. Truth be told I wanted to skip it, to stay in the safety of my shell. But I pushed through and made myself do it. Sometimes, you’ve gotta stare fear in the face and tell it to kindly fuck off.
Let’s Get Physical
On the physical front, my shaved head hairs are becoming a real pain in my ass. It's like a rebellion happening on my scalp. And let me tell you, I have a whole new appreciation for the irritation men go through when they get a haircut. I can’t wear a crew neck sweatshirt for more than a couple of hours without those escaped hairs having a stabbing war on my neck. Hot flashes and night sweats have also crashed the party, potentially signaling the start of menopause. Joy.
And then there's the plastic surgeon consultation. Let's just say, the road to reconstruction is a lot longer than I initially thought and will be staged in at least 2 separate surgeries. If all goes well, and I avoid radiation I should be done with my surgeries in about a year and a half. Additionally, who knew they would have to do fat grafting to create a more natural progression to the implant? To do that means they have to use that liposuction needle that we've all seen jabbed around on Botched on my inner thighs. Let's just say that the recovery from that will likely be far worse than the exchange surgery. Yikes!
Despite the discomfort and uncertainty, I'm holding onto hope. Life may look different for the next few years, but I'm ready to ride the waves, bumps, bruises, and all. After all, what's life without a little turbulence?