Cowboy take me away...(FYI Bitch Rant Ahead)

I LOVED this song by the Dixie Chicks circa 1999/2000, and it is still a great song that I was reminded of this morning when I did my 5:30 am research session on my upcoming PBM (learning the lingo and acronyms!) aka Prophylactic Bilateral Mastectomy with DTI (direct to implant, or in my case, direct tissue exchange-because I am NOT getting actual implants, but my own tissue from belly).  Wheew long sentence with lots of subtext, sorry. So, I am now in 2 exclusive Facebook groups for people who are going through similar situations, and this has been VERY helpful so far, they post pictures of what to expect, share experiences, before, after, during, etc.. and are just generally, all around fantastic women demonstrating strength and providing comfort to strangers. I dig it, I REALLY do.
However, today I got a little sidetracked and wanted to perhaps lash out a bit at a particular fellow blogger.  I don't want to be judgmental, I promise, I don't, but this chick GOT to me. I am no stranger to the concept that everyone has their own cross to bear, despite having a highlight reel on Facebook. Nonetheless, I kind of had an adverse reaction to this  blog. Also-disclaimer-I support all women, regardless of life choices, etc...but that doesn't mean this one didn't irk me. I am also VERY aware that my reaction has EVERYTHING to do with me and nothing with her. So, I am Clear.
But back to the point. I found this blog of a woman having similar procedures to mine and tried to look past her blog title (Housewife in Heels), because that is super cute, not my style, but cute.  And I started in on her reflections of the procedure to see what helpful sister in solidarity advice I could glean from her story.
As it turns out-she had ZERO adversity.  (It is not appropriate to call a sister-soldier from this war on cancer bad names, but I just want to.)
Instead I shall reflect on why this is so aggravating to me, which again, is awesome for her, and all about my own issues. #SmileyFace!
Sister-Housewife-in-Heels (referred to as SHIH henceforth), had this amazing experience, it started with her anxiety being put to rest when she quoted a bible verse, and God personally reached out and took her anxiety away, and from that point forward she was entertaining her entire surgical staff with her calm demeanor and witty sense of humor. (YAY)  Her surgery took a mere 4 hours, and she continued to entertain her medical team with her hilarious banter because she had never been under the influence of drugs before (anesthesia or otherwise, including alcohol), how nice for her! I have been under the influence of anesthesia before and I woke up tied to the bed and ready to vomit because I got "a little combative." #MyBad
After she returned to her room for the night, her "Cowboy" was waiting for her and ready to respond to her every whim.  #adorbs She uses code names for all of her family in her blog, to protect the innocent I presume.  Cowboy really did make everything perfect and they were discharged by 10 am the next day! Rock on sister! Then they stayed at a luxury hotel close to the hospital for a few days so SHIH and Cowboy could have some alone time to adjust before going home and having to deal with Mom of SHIH, Mom of Cowboy, and  Mary Poppins (she seriously called her nanny that), and her 2.5 children (ok fine, just 2). How delightful for her! Room service and painkillers, it occurred to me that she was actually living the life of a modern day rock star.
Then after a few days, they headed home, where everything went exactly as planned. Her mother, mother in law, husband, and   Mary Poppins did everything she needed, food, rest, so she could nap and catch up on new PBS shows. (What was she even worried about?!)
And finally I had to stop reading.  I relate to NOTHING in this blog so I had to move on.
And this is where my own issues get completely compounded and blown way up in my head.  I DON'T HAVE A COWBOY! Or a MOM! Or a MOTHER-IN-LAW, and Definitely, no Mary Poppins. #lipquivering #ImNotCryingYouAre
Hard as it may be to believe, no Cowboy ever showed up to take me away like in the song I love so much! And since he did not ever show up, I have no tough-as-nails, sweet-as-pie husband to care for me. #Curses
And #Buzzkill my mom died 23 years ago. I can usually roll on with my life despite these things that "seem normal" for most other people. But now I feel pretty damn slighted, but let me explain why.  The guilt I described in Blog Post 1 is also compounded by the fact that I have to rely on so many external people to fill in for the non-existent Cowboy and the missing mother and potential mother-in-law. My anger and rage towards SHIH is that she has all the things I thought I would have by the time I went through this.  Of course that is not how life is, I know, I know.  I don't NOT want SHIH to have all of those things, I just want maybe like 50% of what she has for this particular situation.
And don't get it twisted, LOTS of people have offered to help, THANK YOU! But it is that, unconditional love of the 2 people who will be there for you the ENTIRE time that is missing.  And I know people will help, but it is up to me to plan and schedule and fill in holes, and chances are I will miss things, because walking my dog 2xs a day for 3 months is a RIDICULOUS amount of work to ask someone for!  So I may not ask every time, because I don't want to take away from the everyday obligations that people have in their own families. To be honest, after my back surgery I couldn't even remember if I took my meds everyday, let alone who would be coming to my house to walk my dog 2 times a day or make sure I have food within reach because I can't raise my arms above my shoulders.  I don't have someone who will wash my hair because I can't shower for weeks (legit, weeks), or if I was really being picky, someone to shave my legs-although that might be pushing it, I barely shave my own legs, so that is just me whining at this point.
And the unspoken thing that is really on my mind is, will a cowboy want to show up if I have big scars all over my body?
I let my emotions get the best of me today, and I promise this is not how the rest of this blog thing is going to go, in fact, I am doing the blog precisely to KEEP my head in a positive space, but hey, I am not perfect.  Honestly, I can barely wear heels to work, and I damn sure don't wear them at home.  But that is just me. AND does a cowboy REALLY want his cowgirl to wear heels? Because I would think he would like her in boots, and I am a total boot girl.