Third Act With Pattie

Tag: fight cancer

  • Dizziness, Diagnosis, and Dumb Google Holes

    It’s funny — when you don’t have a serious illness, you can hop out of bed a little dizzy and think, “must’ve stood up too fast.”

    If you’re me, and you do have cancer, your immediate response is: clearly the cancer has gone to my brain. Or — because I never miss a chance to overachieve — maybe it’s a brand-new cancer. Or possibly a brain-eating worm brought on by sneaking too many M&Ms.

    Either way, it calls for hours of internet research to confirm my impending doom.

    So this morning, that’s exactly how I woke up — dizzy, dramatic, and ready to self-diagnose. I opened my laptop to “write a blog” and two hours later, I was somewhere deep in the Google hole, no closer to a definitive answer but 100% sure I was dying.

    Exhausted from all that medical detective work, I did what any rational adult would do: I pulled one of my mother’s old tricks and went back to bed.

    And wouldn’t you know — when I woke up again, there on my nightstand were two medicine bottles, the same ones I’d taken before bed. I picked one up and read the fine print: “May cause drowsiness or dizziness.”

    Well, damn. Turns out it wasn’t a brain-eating worm or a rare, one-in-a-billion cancer after all. It was the damn medicine.

    Welcome to my every day. 💚

  • Today I Choose Joy

    This morning I sat in the almost-dark and watched the sky split itself open. Every day really is a blank canvas, but let’s be honest—most of the strokes are thrown on by things I’ll never control. Life doesn’t exactly wait for my approval before it slaps paint around.

    So I start where I can: ordering the little pieces that actually belong to me. Call it self-care, call it survival, call it refusing to let the day turn beige.

    As the sky softened into light, I decided—resolved, even—that I’d throw some light of my own around today. Maybe for myself, maybe for anyone who crosses my path. The geese flew overhead in their messy V, reminding me that forward is the only direction that counts. And the blue heron strutted across the water like it owned the place, reminding me to stay exactly where I am, no apologies.

    So here’s the palette I’m grabbing: joy.

    • Joy in the fact that I woke up vertical.
    • Joy in feeling well enough to move, not just moan.
    • Joy in time with my granddaughter—even at 25, when she’s not giggling but building her own damn life and still making me proud.
    • Joy in collapsing for a nap without guilt.
    • Joy in dancing if the music insists, even if it looks like a medical emergency.

    That’s today’s order. Joy, bold strokes, no beige allowed. Maybe you should order some too.

  • My Idea of the Perfect Date!

    For me, today—October 2, 2025—was the perfect date.

    The sun was warm but the breeze carried just enough autumn chill to keep the leaves dancing off the trees. It was one of those days where you can breathe deeper, walk slower, and not feel guilty about either.

    I woke up with a song in my head—sorry, no romance here—it was Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah. My dad used to sing that to me when I was little, and this morning it felt exactly right: My oh my, what a wonderful day.

    Here’s the kicker: no part of my body hurt. That alone could’ve made it the perfect day. But then—bonus points—I was gifted the most relaxing massage. Afterwards I got time with my precious granddaughter, the kind that fills your heart without draining your energy.

    Later, I drove peacefully to the lake, with my girl Sassy, watching leaves twirl and tumble in their autumn dance. At one point I stopped at a store and, without shame, practically Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah‘d from the car to the store and back again. Sassy was likely mortified.

    By late afternoon, I had time to sit outside. I even took a nap out there, wrapped up in the perfect mix of warmth and breeze. And now, as I watch the sun slide down the sky, I can say it again: today was the perfect date.

    It wasn’t too hot. It wasn’t too cold. I didn’t need a light jacket.
    And best of all—I didn’t think about cancer all damn day.

    I want to take a moment to acknowledge something important. The movie Song of the South and its song Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah have not stood the test of time, and I understand the hurt it can represent. That film came out long before I was born, but my connection to the song is personal—I loved it because my Daddy used to sing it to me when I was little. That memory still brings me joy.

    I never want to cause offense, so please accept my apology if my reference to the song was upsetting in any way. 💚

  • Self Care This Morning

    Photo by Photo By: Kaboompics.com on Pexels.com

    There is no blog post today because, at this very minute, I’m enjoying the most relaxing massage — a gift from a very dear friend.

    After listening to my heart, I realized I need more of this: more quiet moments, more relaxing adventures, and more time with dear friends who remind me to pause. 💚

  • October is my birthday MONTH