I decided to celebrate. My husband reserved a huge suite at a local hotel, and I invited nine friends to do a paint and sip with some appetizers, maybe go to dinner. We had prepared boob-themed party games (I even had boob-related party prizes) and my friend Anna ordered boob cupcakes.
Melissa and her husband (who got quite excited about the whole process) made a boob bra pong game, complete with boob ping pong balls. They used all my old bras as targets to catch the ping pong balls in. I also came up with boob bingo, with breast markers. Prizes included a mug with boobs on it and several notebooks artistically decorated in boobs.
I was actually giddy when I woke up the morning of my party. I had to get the kids ready for their swim lessons, then home to pack the supplies and get a pretty party dress on! Hell, I figured I would even put makeup on (which would be the first time in maybe 3 years). My kids helped me pick out jewelry, which is their favorite part about mom going out for the night.
The day of my party was the first day of what would eventually become a pandemic. On the news on the way to the party, we heard that one person in our county had succumbed to COVID-19 disease caused by the coronavirus. So there was already a bit of weariness in the eyes of the friends arriving, discussing what they heard about the beginning of the spread of the virus in our county. I would be lying if I said it didn’t somehow dampen the early festivities. My husband required me to wipe down all the surfaces of the hotel room before guests arrived so that we wouldn’t get sick or spread the disease. That pretty much set the stage for the night. Too much champagne, a lot of painting and a few boob games later, I was passed out in bed.
By the time of the party, friendships and dynamics had changed, matured or fizzled out, but everyone showed up to celebrate what was a hard year. I wanted to thank everyone in the very different ways they helped me though my journey, preparing notes for each one of my party attendees. It was the least I could do.
It was like I was trying to give myself an artificial closure to what I still have yet to realize will need to be a longer process. I can't really just cross off "get rid of cancer" from my to-do list.
Its a random Thursday several months after I was declared cancer-free and I am still struggling to come to terms with life continuing as normal - er - the "new" normal while under pandemic conditions.
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