Glasses - 6 Days ..

One of the gag gifts Denise & Manoli bought my sister and I for our 50th birthday is a book called 'Laugh Lines' ... I read the entire book and laughed out loud. From birth to your 50's!



In addition to being diagnosed with breast cancer when I turned 50 ... I also needed glasses. I picked them up from Dr. Mike (I can't pronounce his last name so I call him Dr. Mike.) I had them fitted and they really make a difference.

Like I said in a prior post, the term Over the Hill has new meaning for me ...

LMAO!

6 days left ...

Pre-Op & Post-Op Training (Janice, keep your chin up!)

I met with Sara, my cancer buddy, and Janice at the Breast Center for our training. Janice had a lumpectomy 10 years ago, followed by radiation and Tamoxifen (one pill per day). She was 41 at the time. Her cancer came back and she is having a mastectomy. I felt so bad for her because some friends and family members are judging her for not getting a mastectomy 10 years ago. Can you imagine? I told her to tune all of these assholes out.

We were told what we need to do before the surgery and what to expect after the surgery.

Last night Julia came over with George, my cousin Ourania, and Christina (my cousin Nick's wife).

I kept feeling pain under my arm pit ...

Called Dr. Frazier's office in the early morning hours - got the answering service. The woman on the phone sounded like she hated her job. Left message. Called Sara, left message. Sara called me back within 15 minutes. Got showered and dressed and left the house at 7:00 am.

Sara recommended I stop working, but I went to work this morning, although I did leave at 11:00.

Tomorrow I will stay home and Monday I had already put in for a VDay (the day before my surgery). I took 3 Tylenol last night, which doesn't work as well as Advil.

I am home now which sucks because I get depressed when I'm home 'sick' ...

Kathy from Dr. Frazier's office called and asked me if I was running a fever and to let her know.

I had a physical and EKG at my family doctor's office yesterday. When Dr. Fleischer took my temperature it was 98.1. My blood pressure was 114/70 ...

Sometimes patients develop an infection after a biopsy, which is normal. Kathy told me not to worry, keep checking my temperature, and if I do run a fever, call her back for antibiotics.

Needless to say, I've had a trying day ...

My mom keeps checking my forehead to see if I'm running a fever. Busting a gut!

Breast Cancer Awareness T-Shirt - 6 Days ...

Denise, thanks for the Breast Cancer Awareness t-shirt - the pink ribbon that you wear is for all the women in "The Club" (patients, survivors ... the term I like most is warriors).

We're all in this fight together!

I met with Professor Preston in her office this morning and her two dogs who were all over me! I felt compassion and love right away. She had a double mastectomy 10 years ago and is doing great. Buddy is the name of one of her dogs ... how about that for coincidence! I will email her after the surgery to let her know how I am doing.



Maria & John, I miss you both big time! The day that you married my sister John you became my brother. Can't wait to see you & Hannah on Sunday!



Love ya lots! Always remember that!

Breast Cancer Social Media

No breast cancer patient is going to find essential details about treatment from the Web sites of breast cancer organizations. We find this info from other patients. The organizations may have been founded with the best intention to end disease but each is ultimately vested in its own survival. Patient communities, on the other hand, and patients within social media, exist to help educate and help each other. Patients share freely. It is interactive, dynamic, and powerful, not a one-way street like a newspaper.

Whatever your search on breast cancer ... just add the word 'blogs' at the end. There are many cancer patients out there who keep a journal of their journey as I do.

It makes me feel good to write about my experience and to share my hopes and fears with other patients.

Exhaustion, Part II

I tell myself it's just my body, using its resources to fight the cancer. I hope that's true. I'm so tired. My legs feel like rubber bands. I am mentally exhausted.

You get tired of fighting sometimes. Tired of telling yourself it will be OK. Tired of telling your friends that you're fine, and acting like it's true. Just tired of dealing with it all: the doctors, the tests, the cancer.

It's funny - the hospitals try to prepare you for all this. They give you notebooks of material, there are books and Web sites, support groups.

And we all react differently to the cancer. So you will read things like "you'll be lethargic, or have plenty of energy." "You'll have no appetite, or you'll be famished." "You'll sleep most of the day, or you'll have insomnia." Sounds pretty much like life to me.

One thing my cancer has done is made me appreciate life so much more.

I am a member of 'The Club' - a not so exclusive club. As much as those close to me are interested and try to understand what I'm going through, I haven't been able to convey it quite as articulately as I would like.

Pain - 7 Days ...

Today was a bad day. Last night for the first time I felt my tumor. I measured the distance and found it. Despite the terrible bruising from the biopsy I persisted and felt it. It's hard ... I didn't mention this to my parents. The less they know, the better.

When I got to work and logged onto my computer, I started crying. I don't know why, but it ended when Nikki called me up to mention she would be a few minutes late.

My mom cried a lot this morning. She kept holding it inside and finally she just let it out. I hugged her and cried. Nothing like a good crying spell between mother & daughter to start off the day depressed.

I told my mom it's okay to cry. It's okay to be afraid. These are normal emotions considering the circumstances.

It's a double whammy for my mom. She is dealing with my cancer and with my sister and her family being far away ... She misses Maria, John & the kids. I do too.

I can see the pain in my mother's eyes.

An individual doesn't get cancer, a family does. - Terry Tempest Williams

I wrote this recently to an aunt who I haven't seen in years. I'm almost certain she understood this quote - her mother battled breast cancer and had a double mastectomy.



This picture was taken last Wednesday. A picture worth a thousand words! George and I are very close and I love him dearly.

Tomorrow night Julia and little George will stop by to visit as they do every week.

Last Wednesday when they came over Julia brought Cocoa, their guinea pig. I watched Cocoa at my house while Julia visited her parents with George in Crimea. She brought me a neat ship w/six little drinking cups as a gift from Russia. A 'drinking' gift of course!

I was touched by the fact that she brought Cocoa so that I could see him. I really got attached to him while they were gone.

George reminds me so much of my nephew. I took him to his karate lesson the week before they left for their vacation.

I'm looking forward to seeing them tomorrow. George and I play a game with paper planes, docks and boats in Maria's dining room. Oh how he smiles, and when he smiles I smile. Children bring out the best in us ...

Every morning I recite a beautiful quote, which has become my mantra. It helps me deal with the pain the fear, etc.

"Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my hardship, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have – life itself." - Walter Anderson

Tomorrow I will meet my nurse navigator, my cancer buddy, and Janice, another patient battling breast cancer. We will have our pre-op training at the Comprehensive Breast Center.

I will then go to work and meet Professor Anne Preston (Economics Dept.) whose office is in the same building that I work in (Stokes). She had a double mastectomy. It's good to talk to breast cancer survivors.

Then I will try and get as much work done as possible. I have to leave at 1:45 for the last of my two tests before my surgery: a physical and an EKG.

7 days left ...

Manoli & Denise

Miss you big time! Take care of your mom. I can see dark circles under her eyes.



I'm fine. 8 more days ...

Can't wait until the 22nd when I pick you & your mom up at the airport.

Tell your dad to call me Sunday as soon as he lands with Hannah. I'll be there to pick them up. Sorry that your dad has to fly to Kentucky on Monday but ... work is work!

Giagia and papou send you their love.

Hope Hanna likes Greece. How can anyone NOT love Greece?!

Sentinel Lymph Node Biopsy

This morning I called Karen (the surgical coordinator). The surgery will be approximately three hours long.

I will be injected with radioactive dye and the dye will then be drained into my nodes. They will perform a Sentinel Lymph Node Biopsy.



What is a Sentinel Lymph Node Biopsy?

The sentinel node is the first lymph node that a tumor drains into. So, it’s the first place that cancer is likely to spread. In breast cancer, the sentinel node is usually one of the axillary lymph nodes in the armpit. A sentinel lymph node biopsy can be performed at the same time as a lumpectomy or a mastectomy. During the biopsy, one or more lymph nodes are removed. These are sent to the lab to be studied. If there are cancer cells in the sentinel node, this means the cancer has likely spread outside the breast. But if no cancer cells are found in the sentinel node, this means the cancer has probably not spread. A sentinel node biopsy gives the doctors valuable information, with less risk to you than some other procedures.

How is the Sentinel Node Found?

There are 2 methods for finding the sentinel node. Your surgeon may use 1 or both of these techniques:

A blue dye may be injected near the breast tissue. Then, its path into the lymph nodes is tracked. The dye collects in the sentinel node.

A small amount of a safe radioactive solution may be injected near the tumor. A gamma detector is then used to find the “hotspot,” which is the node where the solution has collected.

There are risks:

Infection
Bleeding
Fluid collection (seroma)
Pain or numbness
Long-term swelling of the arm (lymphedema)

-----

After I spoke to Karen, I spoke to Sara, my nurse navigator - cancer buddy. We were supposed to have my pre-op training over the phone. Sara mentioned there is another patient - Janice - who is a bit down. Janice is having the same surgery I am having and on the same day as my surgery. Sara asked if I would be willing to go to the Breast Center this Wednesday at 7:30 am and have the pre-op training with Janice instead of today over the phone. I told her it was fine - I will be there at 7:30. I'll even give Janice my cell phone number.

I can only imagine what Janice must be feeling.

Will this be the final leg of the difficult 'cancer' journey?

I wonder if she sits in front of the mirror as I do and stares at her 'sick' breast?

Has she lost her appetite? Has she lost weight? Does she have a difficult time sleeping?

Does she feel as though she is in some sort of twilight zone, this is all a bad dream, this can't really be happening?

Hang in there Janice. Five years from now we'll be looking back and laughing at ourselves!

Relief - 8 days ...

Relief ...

My MRI results of both breasts came back. What looked suspicious on my left breast is benign. I am so grateful!

I kept looking at the photo I took of the films of the right & left breasts and words cannot describe how relieved I am that my left breast is healthy.



I have lost all sense of time ... 8 days until my surgery. I can't wait!

Hope - 9 days ...

Battling breast cancer can take an emotional toll on everyone involved - from the diagnosed to her family members. Inspiration can run short and comfort is in high demand.

Whether you are a survivor, a warrior or a family member, hang in there, and never give up hope.

What has helped me is knowing there are others out there who are going through the same thing.



9 days until my mastectomy ...

"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops — at all...
~Emily Dickinson (1861)

Even before my diagnosis, I found comfort and strength in Eleanor Roosevelt. For me, she is a pillar of strength!

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do." - Eleanor Roosevelt

To all of the women who are battling breast cancer ... live to win! You are NOT alone.

Keep hope where it is easily accessible for those moments that are too much to bear.

And remember you are not alone.

Hope!

Max Schumacher

Oh how I can relate to the character Max Schumacher in Network!

I'm scared shitless ... death is suddenly a perceptible thing to me ...

Max Schumacher:

" ... After living with you for six months, I'm turning into one of your scripts. Well, this is not a script, Diana. There's some real actual life going on here. I went to visit my wife today because she's in a state of depression, so depressed that my daughter flew all the way from Seattle to be with her. And I feel lousy about that. I feel lousy about the pain that I've caused my wife and my kids. I feel guilty and conscience-stricken and all of those things that you think sentimental, but which my generation called simple human decency. And I miss my home because I'm beginning to get scared shitless. Because all of a sudden, it's closer to the end than it is to the beginning, and death is suddenly a perceptible thing to me - with definable features ..."

Howard Beale

I'm watching Network on the Sundance Film Channel. What a gem!

I've seen this movie many times and I think we can all relate to Howard Beale.

Howard Beale:

"I want you to get up right now. Sit up. Go to your windows. Open them and stick your head out and yell - 'I'm as mad as hell and I'm not gonna take this anymore!' Things have got to change. But first, you've gotta get mad!...You've got to say, I'M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!Then we'll figure out what to do about the depression and the inflation and the oil crisis. But first, get up out of your chairs, open the window, stick your head out, and yell, and say it: I'M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!"

I don't watch too much television but when I do I watch old movies.

Cats

Cats ...



Denise ... Buddy misses you big time!



Felix is ... well ... Felix!



Oscar ... I think I'm doing better than he is - he just had one of his asthma attacks.

I'm taking good care of them, and they are taking care of me. Every other night I sleep on your sofa. On the other days, I sleep in my bed with Gypsy. You know how she gets separation anxiety. Busting a gut!

I had dinner with giagia and papou (fish & horta). Giagia gave Gypsy some fish - you know she didn't leave a trace in her bowl.

Over the Hill

On August 30th, my sister and I turned 50. At 1:00 pm I had a mammogram ...

Who would have known that my mammogram on that day would change my life forever.

The term 'over the hill' has new meaning for me now.

While we celebrated our birthday, my mother started crying - tears of joy - another milestone in her babies' lives.



Nine days after this picture was taken I received the call from Dr. Frazier, "Irene, your tumor is malignant."

Over the hill.

I have a mountain to climb and when I reach the top I will sing out loud, I will sing of good things, not bad ... sing of happy, not sad.

Life is good!

See prior post: Nothing is Permanent

I just finished reading an older post: Nothing is Permanent.

Deep down inside while my malignant tumor was taking shape I wrote a post on how short life is. Here today, gone tomorrow.

If you read that post you will understand why it's eerie. Really, really eerie.

Read that post and live your life everyday as if it were your last.

Life is good!

Exhaustion

I'm tired ...

My body is fighting this cancer. I can feel it - I'm not imagining things. Granted, my imagination runs wild sometimes, but I know my own body better than anyone else.

There's not a lot about exhaustion online, but I found this on a website, "In a tumor-induced “hypermetabolic” state, tumor cells compete for nutrients, often at the expense of the normal cells' growth. In addition to fatigue, weight loss and decreased appetite are common effects."

I have lost 6 lbs in two weeks. I can't eat, I can't sleep ...

I'm physically, mentally and emotionally spent. I have enough bags under my eyes to go shopping with ...

Went to the park around 6:30 and walked a few laps with my dear mom. Then we hit the Dairy Queen on the way home!

My mother is full of wisdom. She's my best friend. I don't know what I would have done without her love, compassion and support.

I need a cup of coffee. At my sister's cat-sitting her 3 cats. They miss Maria, John & the kids.

I miss them big time! They are in Kefalonia (Greece) ... we text or call each other everyday so it makes the distance, even though temporary, easier to deal with for both of us.

Hurry back sis! Love ya lots!

9/11

Bill Kelly Jr., we have never forgotten you. I haven't seen your father in years - your death on that horrible day changed him forever. You would be proud of the Golf Tournament your father created to honor you.

www.billkellyjr.com

If anyone has an opportunity to visit the memorial park where the twin towers once stood, it is truly breathtaking. I took photos and traced Dr. Theurkauf's nephew's name on a piece of paper for him. My sister used to work for Dr. Theurkauf. Maria is in the Business Department at Bryn Mawr Medical Specialists Assoc's. Another great doctor who is retiring in a few weeks.

To all those who lost loved ones on 9/11, we will always remember.

To live on in the hearts of others is to never die ...

May you all continue to rest in peace.

Google games

I'm at work and the distraction is good. I work at Haverford College and Nikki Millas is by far the coolest boss I have ever had. She has helped me so much during these last two weeks.

Love ya lots Nikki! I keep clicking on your picture under our contact info so that if anyone googles Haverford Purchasing, your picture comes up. Busting a gut! The day we had our pictures taken the weather was horrible, cloudy and rainy. They picked the pictures that were taken inside Founders Hall by the staircase.

Gotta go get my tests done. The smell of hospitals, pine-sol, aghhh!

Go Fords!

BREAST CANCER - 'THE CLUB'

On my 50th birthday, I had a routine mammogram. Didn't think anything about it. Later that night, I went out to dinner with my family and had a great time. Denise and Manoli got my sister and I a bunch of 'gag gifts' - you know the ones: OLDER THAN DIRT, NOW THAT YOUR FIFTY - YOUR UNDERWEAR WILL BE SHITTY, OVER THE HILL, GAS-X, FIXODENT, etc.

By far the neatest gifts were two frames (one for my sister a/k/a 'Beast' and one for me a/k/a 'Shady'). They call me Shady because ... well I've done some pretty shady things in my life, smoked pot, drank a lot, etc. Getting back to the frames - there are lines that mention what occurred in 1964 (the year my sister and I were born). The last line reads:

But the most important thing that occurred in 1964 was Maria and Irene Atsatos were born!

My mother gave birth to two bouncing, beautiful baby girls - identical twins - on a very hot Sunday back in 1964 in Upper Darby, PA, only a year after she moved here from Greece.

It's been a while since I have written, and those of you who know me well and have read older posts know that I am a die-hard liberal. Both my parents are Democrats as well so I have much in common with them. Some of my older posts deal with politics, both here and in Greece, some deal with entertainment, some with family, and some are funny. I have to laugh - laughter gets me through the day.

On Tuesday, September 2nd, I got a telephone call from Main Line Health Radiology. "Irene, you need to come back for another mammogram and an ultrasound." The following day, Wednesday, I had a second set of mammograms and an ultrasound.

On Thursday, I met with Dr. Thomas Frazier, an oncologist at Breast Surgical Specialists at Bryn Mawr, for a consult. A very personable doctor - I liked him immediately. My gynecologist, Marvin Hyett, who I have been seeing for over 26 years told me, "Irene, you couldn't have had a better doctor. I know Thomas well." Dr. Frazier examined both of my breasts thoroughly and then showed me my mammogram and ultrasound films. I asked if I could take pictures of the films. He said it was fine.



I had a Needle Core Biopsy on Friday, September 5th, guided by an ultrasound. I watched the procedure on the monitor. It was at that point that I knew something was not right ...

What I witnessed on the monitor during the procedure didn't look good, and when I asked to see the samples (4 bottles) I knew right away I had cancer. There were just too many signs. I asked Dr. Simpson, the doc performing the biopsy, "why didn't you insert a titanium clip in my breast? Dr. Frazier mentioned you would be inserting one so that we can monitor my right breast in the future." Her reply, "Irene, don't worry, they will be able to locate the nodule ..."

After the longest weekend of my life, Dr Frazier called me Monday morning (September 8th) ... "Irene, the tumor is malignant."

Before he even had a chance to continue I asked, "what stage doctor?"

"Stage 1A Irene, I'm sorry. I will need to see you in my office."

I took a post-it note from Nikki's desk and wrote what he told me down. I don't know what I would have done without Nikki ... we both started crying.

How do I call my sister in Greece now to tell her the tumor is malignant. After a few minutes I called. "Hey John, how are you?" ...

I love John so much. He is like a brother to me. He handed the phone to my sister because he knows how close we are - he wanted me to tell Maria the results first ... needless to say, Maria started crying, I cried, Nikki cried ...

On Wednesday, September 10th, I saw Dr. Frazier at 10:00 a.m. I didn't sleep the entire night. Nikki came with me to support me and to take notes. At one point the doctor was talking to me - his lips were moving but I couldn't hear what he was saying.

Thank you Nikki. You're like a sister to me, but most of all thank you for having a wonderful disposition and laughing all the time.

He gave me 4 scripts and spent a considerable amount of time explaining my cancer - he even drew a picture and wrote notes for me.

I met with Karen who provided the locations and times of my tests ... I think her name was Karen - I've met so many nurses I can't be certain her name was Karen.

Too much information to have to process. Information overload ... my brain hurts from thinking too much and from trying to process all of this ...

Today at 3:00 p.m., I had an MRI (w/dye) of both breasts, a chest x-ray and blood tests. Dr. Frazier should have the results of those tests by tomorrow.

Nikki dropped me off at the Warden Lobby at Bryn Mawr Hospital. "Irene, I'll drop you off and pick you up ..." It's good that I listened to Nikki - the MRI was an hour and 10 minutes. A man must have created this special MRI for breasts - two openings where the breasts hang (your on your stomach and your arms are extended above your head). The openings are not even curved (to at least resemble the shape of our breasts)!

Bang, bang bang ... anyone who has ever had an MRI can relate to the noise.

"Irene, this next one will be 10 minutes. Are you okay?" Cheryl, the technician talked to me throughout each stage. "Other than my sternum hurting, the paralysis in my lower back and legs, and the pins and needles in my arms and hands, I feel great Cheryl! A man must have created this contraption.! I'm fine ..."

When it was all over I sat up and felt dizzy. It took about 10 minutes for me to get the sensation back in my hands and legs. They removed the port (from the top of my hand where the dye was injected).

"Can you stand Irene? My assistant and I will help you stand up slowly." My reply, "we'll get the answer to that question if I wind up on the floor ..." I have to joke - it gets me through difficult moments.

In another post I will write about Sara, my cancer buddy - nurse navigator, who met me in the waiting area before my MRI. A wonderful nurse with a great sense of humor who also had breast cancer. We hit it off right away. We both had each other in stitches in the waiting area. It's what I call a 'busting a gut' laughing spell. The kind of laughter that makes you almost pee your pants.

I called Nikki up when I got outside ... "Nikki, I'm finished, walking to the Wawa on the corner, I'm really thirsty."

"Okay sweetie, sure honey, call you back in five ..."

BUSTING A GUT! Someone was in her office ...

Even during the most difficult moments in our lives, humor and laughter will find its way in ...

So grateful that my sister and her family will be back from Greece (they are flying back on the 22nd). I miss them so much, more than words can ever say.

Nothing is Permanent

Everything dies. Everything. You were born with a terminal disease, just like everything else that has ever existed ... but this fact — the immutable, inevitable, impossibly obvious fact we will die as surely as we were born — is something we all deny for most of our lives. You’d think we’re never going to die, the way we cower and second-guess and fret over each little action. We act like what we do today will forever alter the flow of creation, of time, of space. Every move is vital. Each little event could upset the delicate balance. Everything is of paramount importance.

We can’t do things differently, because the system, however imperfect, works and is extremely delicate. We might upset it by thinking outside the box.

We have to weigh every decision, because a butterfly flapping its wings in Nova Scotia could cause a hurricane in Guam. Or, as Homer Simpson taught us, if you kill a mosquito in dinosaur times, Ned Flanders might become the unquestioned lord and master of the universe.

We can’t do something that might make us look ridiculous, because first impressions last forever. We can’t try and fail, because then we’ll be ruined forever.

Think a scar (or a tattoo, for that matter) is permanent? It’s not. Your body was literally formed from stardust and will eventually return there. The duration of a scar doesn’t even register on the big time line. In fact, I heard that God watches jewelry commercials and LOL’s when they say that diamonds are forever. It’s all a big joke up there. There’s a drinking game in Heaven, where angels do a shot every time humans invest “for the long term.”

What are you so fucking worried about?
You are here now. Eventually, you will be gone. You have but a nanosecond on the universal clock to do whatever it is you’re going to do. When that time is gone, it’s gone. Forever.

That means that although what you do doesn’t matter to the universe, it should matter one hell of a lot to YOU.

In fact, it should matter to you more than it currently does. If you knew how small you are and how short a time you have to do what you can, you wouldn’t waste time watching five fucking hours of TV a day. You wouldn’t waste time doing a job you hate. You wouldn’t waste the little time you have dealing with assholes, feeling sorry for yourself, or being timid about the things you’d really like to do ...

Think back five years in time. Remember what you were like. Realize how fast five years can go. Think about who you are today, the place you’re in and the age you are. Then step back into the shoes of your five-years-ago self and look at yourself as you are today ... time will never stop. NEVER. You will never be younger again. It’s like being on a train with no stops that’s always leading you farther and farther from home … or closer and closer to home, depending on how you look at it. You can never get off that train. You can never board a train going the opposite direction. If you missed a stop, tough shit. If there was this great thing even just two miles back that you decided not to do, you can’t change your mind and go do it. That place is gone forever.

In my past, there’s an opportunity I could have taken advantage of that I didn’t, and that I wish I had. There’s a thing I got rid of that I really wish I’d kept.

But the train never backs up. Never. I missed those things, and I will never get a second chance.

Do yourself a favor, right now, and realize two things:

1. You will keep getting older, and then you will die.

2. Everything that’s ever entered your experience has lasted and will continue to last for only a brief moment in the life of the universe.

So stop wondering what it all means and how you’ll possibly ever do X and what people will think, and get on with your life already. Stop being a pussy and go do something amazing.

Do epic shit ...

You can’t be a bad person who does good things. If you do good things, you’re not bad; you’re good. There is simply no way to manifest badness other than by being bad. Anyone who’d argue that you can be bad while ultimately doing good things is just a douchebag philosophy major looking to get his ass kicked.

So what does this mean to you?

Why … it means everything. It means that in the small amount of time you have to live, you can be whatever you want. It means that even though the universe doesn’t care enough to give you what you want, it doesn’t care enough to stop you from having it, either. So embrace that anarchy, and take those things for yourself.

If you want to be awesome in this life, do awesome things.

If you want to be a leader, do some leading.

If you want to be an expert, do the things an expert does.

Just do it. Claim it. Stop waiting for permission to be epic.

Most people think that they need to be tapped on the shoulder by the Epic Fairy if they ever hope to be epic, or if they’re ever going to have the audacity to do something truly epic. But it’s not true. Want to be epic? Just do epic shit. There’s nothing else to it.

People always say, “I wish I was amazing. I wish I was awesome.”

Fucking hell. Stop whining and just be it already.Be fucking awesome.

Nobody’s going to give you the gift of awesome. Nobody’s going to make you good, or great, or amazing, or epic. Nobody’s going to make you an expert or an authority or a voice anyone should listen to. Nobody’s going to level you up. If you want that next level, take it. Take it for yourself.

Grab it. Become it. Claim it.

Write a treatise. Create an event. Champion a cause. Build something great. Speak your mind. Make the call. Build the business. Author the book. Send the email. Do it. Do it.

If you fail, big deal.

You might write something and nobody might read it. You might build it and nobody might come. You could fail and ruin your life. You could take a chance and end up looking really, really stupid. Boo-fucking-hoo.

It doesn’t matter ...

You are very small. We are all staring down the barrel of a gun, and we last only for the tiniest, tiniest moment in time. Your life is a one-way train, and any second you waste is a second lost forever.

If your life is to mean something, it’s up to YOU ... Stop waiting for someone to give you what you want. The universe is too busy to care. It has worlds to create and galaxies to destroy. If you’re worried about death and about your own end, don’t. It’s coming whether you like it or not. You will either arrive at the end of your life in style or you will arrive broken and beaten, but whichever way you choose, have no doubt that you WILL ARRIVE.

There is only now. If you have power, it’s now. If you can change anything, you have to do it now. If you want to be or to have that next great thing, be it. Have it. Take it. Own it. Do it. Become it.
Be awesome.

Do epic shit.

Do it now. The clock is ticking ...

I love you Johhny B!