So, I’ve been watching the Netflix mini-series Inventing Anna recently. I’ve been fascinated with how this 25-year-old girl (because at 36 almost 37 anyone under the age of 30 seems soo young now) could fake her way into scamming millions… I mean MILLIONS of dollars from well to-do folks, fancy hotels, etc. I’ve also been thinking about what type of persona I have online. Being an internal optimist, I choose to only post happy things, such as, my children, dates with my husband, and my cat. Also, when I blog, I try to remain positive. I try to stay true to who I am in hopes that it makes you smile, laugh or think. Am I hiding behind some of the pain of this year- hell yeah, I am, but what good does dwelling on something you have no control over? I also realized, however, that maybe I should share some of the not so good in my life as it might help others going through similar situations. Give them a voice.

I noticed the settings on my washing machine just now. They read (as I am sure most do): Normal, Heavy Duty, Whites, Bedding/Waterproof, PERM Press, Quick Wash, Delicates, etc. Now, I’m not an expert but I sure as heck hardly ever use PERM press or even delicate (honestly, maybe never). I’m mostly a Normal, Heavy Duty, Whites, and Bedding kind of gal. I’m sure I could start a war on social media regarding my washing habits, but I digress. Life’s a lot like these settings. normal is good but sometimes things get Heavy Duty. Things become Delicate and hard to talk about. We wish everything could be a Quick Wash but alas it’s just not possible.

My life flipped its script, and my settings went from Normal to Heavy Duty in September of 2021. Everything changed with one diagnosis. I’ve come a long way since that phone call. I was in the car with my mom and youngest leaving Tuscaloosa from the pediatrician. I pulled over in the Bojangles parking lot to get the news. The worst part was telling my mom and having to drive an hour in silence waiting to tell my dad that was waiting in Demopolis. They had to have their moment of being upset, and I know they didn’t want to fall apart in front of me. I also dreaded telling my 8-year-old after a soccer match one night. I didn’t have much time to think as it was time to schedule a surgery and find a way to tell people. I’m sorry if you found out on a text or read it in my blog. It’s so much easier to type those kinds of things than say them out loud.

Did I fall apart or have some moments of ugly crying? Yes, I did, and I have; I will. Did I have moments where I felt sorry for myself? Yes. I will. Did I get so sick I couldn’t keep anything down? Yes, unfortunately, once after one of my “red devil” chemo treatments. Did I get back up? I did, I am. Am I a fighter? Yes, short people tend be scrappy regardless of a cancer diagnosis because we can’t even reach things at Wal Mart. Do I make off-color cancer jokes? All the time. Am any different than you? No, I am not. You would do the same thing. You would cry, fight, get mad, tell awful jokes. Why? Because you have people that depend of you, and you’ve got so much more to do with this life!

Now, one lumpectomy and one surgery to get clear margins, a few mammograms, ultrasounds, and 8 chemo treatments behind me, I can say I am no longer the same Ashley as I was before. I hope that I am better. Inventing Anna shows the world what’s like to be a scam artist and that you can never really know a person. I hope that when you read this, you know that you are getting my God honest truth. I want to help you, your mother, your sister, anyone fighting cancer. “Don’t you know who I am (insert Anna’s God-awful accent on Inventing Anna)?” I am the one that will fight with you, for you, beside you.