The Truth About CANCER

Yesterday I went to the hospital to take care of some business. A doctor who helped me but isn't my regular doctor discussed a concern he had with me regarding a test result. "Oh I know" I said proceeding to explain the latest diagnosis of cancer. "You're too young to have this cancer," he said. His face drooping in a fashion that I have become accustomed to over the last couple of months. "Yeah", I said with a sort of don't know what else to say grin "if only the cancer knew that". 

The truth of the matter is that cancer doesn't have an MO (Modus Operandi).  It is not as picky or prejudice as people are, it doesn't have a time clock, in fact it has the worst timing. It doesn't hold grudges or react in anger, it doesn't affect only the weak... it doesn't care about who it affects, it just comes and when it does you just deal, you endure it, you fight it. I have no time for tears there's too much living and loving to be had. No need for pity, who better to bare this burden than someone strong enough to carry it. I will not let it win, instead I will prove it wrong.

CANCER is not my death sentence, 

nor is it my life sentence, 

it is merely a season in a life full of seasons 

and I will make it through.

                         -Oriana

I Can't Be Tamed

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sjSG6z_13-Q

I am so loving this video, "I Can't Be Tamed" by: Miley Cyrus.  First of all the video itself is hot, the concept and idea are so original.  Last but not least the words are so understandable.  For anyone that has lived a somewhat sheltered life and existence, she speaks nothing but the truth.  Every person in that predicament fantasizes about the day when they assert themselves as individuals.  Then in addition to that you can't help but go crazy when you are finally set free.

The Big C

For a few months now I've hidden a secret from all that I love outside my immediate circle of family and close friends.  This secret kept me from visiting and talking to loved ones.  This secret had a way of eating me up inside because I knew that there was a level of me that had to lie in order to keep the appearance of normalcy.  The main reason I kept this secret that could possibly change how people saw me was because my mother wanted me to.  Some people would say why listen to her, this is your life and people would want to know, people want to help.  I understood all that and as true as that might be people are also judgmental and even though their mouths may say one thing, their demeanors, facial expressions and body language would clearly say another.  I guess you're wondering what I'm referring to.  Well my big secret is 

I was diagnosed with Cancer

Whew! What a relief I said it and no tears.  For weeks I had a harder time explaining my diagnosis than actually living with it.  I'll never forget the day that I found out.  It will forever be ingrained in my being.  It has a place in my life and will forever be a part of it, even when I am cancer-free (which I plan to be).  It will be another obstacle that I've overcome, it will be a season in my life when God proved Himself and His Word, it will be the season of my life when God made a miracle out of me.  

I'll never forget when I got the diagnosis.  It was Friday, December 17th I was doing my hair while preparing to go out.  My BFF and I had made plans to hang with a cousin of mine and make it rain at the strip club.  (I said that like a pro, but I never made it that night or any other night.)  As I felt over the lumps and rolls on my head between straightening sections of my hair I thought to myself "Thank God I'm not bald headed, I don't know what I would do if I suddenly lost my hair."  Whether or not she called me back or I called her back is a blur but the phone call I had with Dr.Crawford is not.  She refused to tell me what was wrong but I urged her to tell me over the phone, I couldn't wait to hear this news.  "Well are you driving Ms. Lopez?"  "No" I said.  " Are you sitting?"  "Yes" I said.  "Well we biopsied the tissue from your procedure the other day (I'll tell you about that another day) and it came back as cancer."  "Cancer, what kind?"  "Uterine Cancer."  "Ok so what do we do now?"  Then she told me that they made me an appointment to see a specialist at the cancer center at the hospital.  I wrote all the information she gave me down and thanked her before getting off of the phone. 

I didn't cry, I couldn't.  It was strange, I've read so many times how people felt instantly hopeless, how their world caved in on them, how they didn't know what to do next, but I didn't feel any of that.  I didn't feel any different of a person than I had the day before.  There was a sense of relief, I had often felt pain or had unusual bloating and now I knew why.  Family had said things and done things that weren't kind and now there were answers.  As I sat there thinking about it I realized there were signs, a lot of which I didn't necessarily ignore but doctors had occasionally.  Abnormal blood work and urine analysis and they insisted that it was everything but the obvious.  I remembered throwing up everyday on my way to work or when I told friends that I could feel pains in my uterus.  I remember when I told doctors that I had unusual weight gain in a short amount of time and that one part of my abdomen seemed larger.  I remembered abnormal pap smears that the doctor insisted was nothing to worry about.  I began to wonder why they hadn't caught it sooner, why no one noticed, why it took me nearly dying before a correct diagnosis could be made.  

The first person I told was my father, he thought I was teasing at first until I began to cry.  When my brother who was in the next room heard he ran over and began comforting me.  I know this sounds weird but it wasn't the diagnosis that filled me with such emotion but rather the having to tell my father, the associating it with myself.  After all any diagnosis of cancer comes with a stigma, people automatically think the worse even if they never say it; you hear it in their voice, see it on their face and in their body language.  

My odd calm behavior has some perplexed about the severity of my condition but how would crying and being depressed help me.  At times I'm angry but not with God, and thats what angers me the most I have no one to blame.  Even with that I won't let myself stay angry it won't help but I will change my life.  I want to be an example of endurance and strength.  I want to prove that we should not fear cancer because thats how we give it strength but we don't have to embrace it either.

CANCER is not my death sentence,

it is not my life sentence either

it is merely a season in a life full of seasons 

and I will walk through it!!!

What Is Up With All The Fake Chicks??

Well my BFF and I were sitting in "the office" when it seemed for about 20 minutes straight, that our favorite hangout spot was flooded with fake chick after fake chick.  They were so fake that I'm sure they would be unrecognizable any other way.  I'm not hating on them I just don't totally understand it.  There should be a limit on how fake a person could be before you should have to wear a disclaimer or warning label of some sort, ie:

                         Warning:  85-100% Fake Chick

           keep away from flame, highly

           flammable & high maintenance 

           May contain artificial parts, 
           fake hair, artificial hair color

           fake eyelashes, fake fingernails
           and/or toenails, colored contacts,
           fake body parts, silicone implants 

They had fake hair, fake hair color, fake fingernails and toenails, fake eyelashes, push up bras, and enough make up on their faces to repaint the Long Island Expressway.  Typically I wouldn't care but then they had horrible attitudes.  One girl threw some papers on the floor and looked around daring some one to say something to her.  Another girl and her friend came in and were very loud and obnoxious and their conversation was far from becoming of a young lady.  Why does everyone need to know what your privates look like?  Why must you belittle others in the vicinity in order to make yourself feel better.  You'd think they would want to lessen any attention they were getting considering the fact that they looked like urban clowns.  

Even though I've eluded to this being an urban epidemic, it is not.  Far too many young women are drastically altering their appearances and for what purpose.  Even I've had my fair share of acrylic fingernails and hair extensions but it never ruled my life.  I've known of and heard of women that won't go anywhere until their done masking their true selves beneath layers of a fantasy.  I've always thought there was something wrong with people who only look in the mirror with the intentions of completely altering the person staring back at them. 

Well maybe that's just it, maybe their goals are to become living fantasies, acting as people so far from their true beings because they're afraid no one will accept them any other way.  Adjusting themselves to fit an image that never existed, in their attempt to portray a persona that never had life.  I guess it wouldn't be so bad if they made these changes for themselves but the truth of the matter is they are often so unhappy with who they are that they falsify their image.  I guess its like build a bear workshop for the insecure, just pick out what you want and add it to this empty shell of a person...do't forget to "stuff & fluff".  

One of my biggest questions has always been what happens during those intimate moments?  Don't guys notice all the fake stuff.  Doesn't some of it have to come off some time.  What if the "carpet" doesn't match the "rug"?  What if your breasts aren't really that big or perky?  What if your skin is not as smooth or your hair  was never that long?  Has this guy really fallen for you or this falsified image?  Does he feel ripped off when he sees the real you?  Is this falsified persona cause for assuming that you're a liar since you can't even be honest about your true self?

Then again I wonder if men are to blame for this body image epidemic.  (Not all men but some).  Men want the perfect woman comparable to a list of Hollywood divas, actresses and singers whose whole life was to entertain and pretend.  They too are merely falsified images of beauty.  Marilyn Monroe as beautiful as she was, was born dark-haired Norma Jean and her obvious death eludes to a life of unhappiness.  We see so many of these women in the spotlight in and out of relationships, filled with substance abuse issues, anger, body image problems and these are the women we look to, to dictate how we should live our lives and what appearance to take on.  

So tell me, What is up with all the fake chicks?

No love for Valentine's Day!!

There are only two holidays that you will find Americans preparing for long before they arrive and they are Christmas and Valentine's Day.  Ironically they are also the two most commercial holidays out there.  Just think about it, people often measure how much they are loved by the gifts they receive and if you don't believe me why don't you give the love of your life nothing this year I guarantee it will an unforgettable year for the both of you, lol.  

Well anywho back to the topic at hand -- Valentine's Day, the holiday strictly for lovers.  By now I guess you can tell that this year I am not a fan, I'm not a hater of the holiday... in fact I'd like to believe that I am a Valentine's Day enthusiast.  I love everything about today, from its bold red color, to its classy rose embellished bouquets, to the heart symbol plastered on everything from cards to undergarments, to its decadent sweets and love filled atmosphere.  I love what it stands for and its way of ridding the world and every couple known to man  of anger, hatred and discord for just one day.  

I sat in the nail salon watching woman after woman getting manicures and pedicures, saw women getting new hair-dos, outfits and undergarments.  I can't lie, I also had bought a purse some time ago, so sure that it would wow people on this day but it still sits in its original packaging.

So why is it that this year I am not a fan... take a guess... any minute now... have you figured it out yet... well I'll just tell you.  I am love free, that's right I am home alone, staring at my phone, and afraid to admit that it could possibly be all my fault. 

Deep Breath In --Exhale 

That's right I am home alone with no love of my own and it could very well be my fault.  I'm not ugly so that's definitely not the issue, I'm not without prospective suitors, I'm just too picky and that's that.  Any other day being too picky would seem like a good thing, it allows me to root out the losers, players, man-divas and whatever else I don't want in my life... but on days like this I just want to kick myself for being a picky chick.  

I know that right now I could've been on a date with this guy, let's call him DP.  It would have been a real date with someone that I know loves me and for whom I have a fondness (ok, I love him too), but noooo I had to be all confrontational and stuff and now I am home alone, with no man to phone, while everyone else is getting it on.  I don't think I'm totally wrong for dumping DP, he only wanted to hang at night, he never really called--always texting and we have a past.  In our past he lied about his age (found out he was younger than me), and other menial things, but then again he loved being with me and I with him.  I miss his smile, his hugs and kisses, his company.  

So from time to time I wonder if I made the wrong decision and actually turned down Mr.Right for a figment of my imagination.  Well enough crying over that spilled milk.  I've always had a valentine or at least somewhere to go but this year I am really feeling it and wondering if its all my fault.  Has my picky behavior rendered me loveless on my favorite day of love?  Have I shot too high in hoping to find that perfect man for me? or am I overreacting on this one day knowing that tomorrow will be better because today will be over.

I Hate Facebook Stalkers!!!

Have you ever been Facebook stalked...I have, but the worst part wasn't the stalking itself but the fact that you obviously friended this person at some point and know who they are so why are they constantly monitoring your whereabouts, pictures and friends through your page.  When I first joined Facebook it was primarily because I was bored and everyone I knew was talking about it.   What I didn't realize was other people love monitoring and reading other peoples statuses, and I am not going to lie I too fell prey to reading the juicy statuses and posts.  They were filled with gossip, drama and subjects that beat a good soap opera any day.  Well before I knew it my friends list had grown to include friends from every area of my life and being that I was determined to do things differently I added "church folk" to my friends list as well.

Oh "church folk", how you deceive me with your trickery of friendship and love.  You aren't Christians just imitations of the life a Christian should lead, but that's a story for another day.

Well let me tell you what these insecure "church folk" did, first of all they friended me on Facebook.  Although I wasn't trying to be their friend I figured what could it hurt, I saw them in church all the time and my page was very positive and full of life and Christian values.  Well Ha, Ha, Ha--jokes on me these "church folk" made it their business to aggravate and annoy me.  First of all they started commenting on nearly every status I wrote. I would only comment back or on the ones that I found encouraging.  Next they began commenting on various photos in my albums(I had a lot of pics and in a lot of albums), old and new.  Even though I found that absolutely nosy and annoying I tolerated it, and things just got worse from there.  The stalker behavior had begun and now they were even coming back to church and telling me things about my page and asking questions and still I tolerated their annoying behavior.  What came next shocked me beyond all belief, they tagged my BFF and I in a pic we took and posted on our own pages months before.  Then they had the absolute audacity to go to the pastor and try and convince him that my BFF and I who have been friends and like sisters for over 10 years were gay.  They gathered pic after pic of us hanging out and the crazy part was a lot of those pics we took with other people and they cut people out or only used the pics of us together at parties, karaoke, hanging out, etc.  They started monitoring our whereabouts and statuses, and it was all because they felt we weren't trying to be their friends.

Then there are the relatives that monitor your page so that they have something to discuss with other relatives at family functions because their lives are obviously not that exciting.  Do you know how many times I've seen family members act out online.  My favorite was one time my brother and I were obviously arguing through Facebook and a family member called my mother and told her that we had been arguing online and she started complaining about her life being ruined by us.  Needless to say that was the only time I did that but the incessant nosiness of people is magnified ten times by the convenience of such a site.

So to conclude I hate Facebook stalkers, which means if you're logging on everyday to monitor people and their statuses and pics I am talking to you.

Do I what?

Some time ago I had met this young man that seemed just too good to be true.  He was everything that I thought I wanted and that I was sure my parents would love.  He was handsome, well-mannered, educated (he had two master degrees), independent, he said that he was a Christian (which is still up for debate), he had his own car and his own place.  Well we had gone out few times and I just absolutely enjoyed his company and the attention he gave me.  He would engage me in conversation and encourage me to speak.  I found that I could talk to him about anything and he would just sit there attentively, occasionally interjecting and sharing himself.  Well there we were sitting across from one another in a restaurant, I had been speaking about a book that I read and a theory I had about life and faith.  He sat there with a smile on his face and everything about his posture suggested that he was interested in what I had to say.  He was leaning in towards me and had placed one of his hands over mine as it rested on the table.  By this time I had grown comfortable enough to share my absolute thoughts with him without fear of him being intimidated or annoyed by my level of intelligence and love of knowledge.  Well as I continued he interrupted me.

"Excuse me, sweetie," he said, gripping my hand in his.  I stopped speaking and gave him my undivided attention, so sure that he had something witty and kind to say that put me even more at ease.  So as I leaned in to hear what he had to say, hoping that my body language would let him know that he had my attention he smiled wider and continued.  "May I ask you a question?"

"Sure" I said, confident that his question would only evoke more intelligent conversation and stronger emotions I nodded.

"Do you suck the cock?" he asked smiling from ear to ear.  

"Excuse me" I said, "Do I what?" so sure that I had misheard him.

"Do you suck the cock?" he asked again still smiling from ear to ear.  I heard him more clearly and suddenly everything in me faded as I pulled my hand away from his.  I felt my body tense up as my posture became more defensive.  

"Are You Serious?" I blurted out, "I've been sitting here talking to you all this time and that's what you had to ask me.  Did you hear anything I said?  And what was that, the politically correct way of asking me whether or not I'd suck your dick?  I am so through, too through..."  I grabbed my coat and bag and left the restaurant with him scrambling behind me to stop me from continuing on without him.  He reached me before I reached the corner.

"I'm sorry," he said grabbing a hold of my arm.  I tried to shake him off but he had a firm grip on my arm.  "Look I'm really sorry, its just that you're so beautiful... and look at what you do to me"  He motioned with his eyes for me to look down and I did catching a glimpse of his manhood at full attention as it pushed against his pants zipper.  

I just rolled my eyes and left him standing alone on the corner, just him and his erection as I made my way home.  I was angry and annoyed I had done most of the speaking tonight, not to mention how much he encouraged me to speak all the other times.  I felt violated, after all this idiot had been getting off on watching me speak for a while now.  I thought back to every conversation we had and every smile he gave me realizing that he probably never heard a word I said but rather imagined my mouth in places on his body that they would never be.    

Now explain to me why it is that a lot of men can think of a woman in some of the most compromising positions while they are doing regular activities.  There are times when as a woman you can't even walk down the street without comments.  I am so tired of people perverting things because they lack the self control necessary to function as a decent human being.