Duh! You say, but honestly, the reality of it hit me today. I've been struggling this week. To be honest, I've been struggling badly. This last round of chemo has hit me really hard. It's not physically much harder than the last two, but mentally, I can't seem to get my head above water. I'm really struggling and I hit a low last night. When I awoke this morning, I realized that I had, in a sense, been denying the fact that I'm going through chemo. Oh, I knew I was, but I was trying to continue living my life as if I weren't. I made a game out of finding beautiful scarves, doing my makeup daily, wearing cute earrings, and of course the smile, always the smile, because Gosh Darn It, this cancer stuff wasn't going to stop me!! I made sure I found a way to volunteer at church, and didn't skip services even if I had to bring a puke bag with me to get through it. Only now, it is stopping me, or at least having a huge impact on my life.
It's getting hot out, so I'm bringing out my summer clothes, only they don't look right. I've put on weight. My chest is MESSED UP (three surgeries and expansion halted mid-way will do that). The meds are wreaking havoc on my mid-section and the fact of the matter is I don't look good and there is little I can do about it. I wanted to make my way through chemo looking gorgeous and unfazed by it all, but I can't. Chemo IS affecting me. I'm bald, bloated and honestly, freakin' pissed off! I hate feeling out of control. Out of control of my body. Out of control of my life!
I seriously contemplated quitting my chemo. My oncologist was on the fence in the first place about whether or not I should follow my four rounds of Adriamycin and Cytoxin with the twelve rounds of Taxol or not. After discussing it with us, he felt it would be best to add on the Taxol. So I have one more A/C treatment, and then twelve, yes TWELVE weekly rounds of Taxol. Twelve rounds. How in the world am I going to last through twelve more rounds of chemo?! One at a time. One measly round at a time, and eventually, it will be August, and I will be done, and I will cry. I will cry and cry and cry because I will have made it. I will have survived and it will all be a distant memory.
Until then, I will put on my baggy t-shirts, flash my bald head around, and hold on for dear life because there may be pain in the night, but JOY comes in the morning. Right? Right?
I typed this blog entry and then went looking for a picture to post with it. As I scanned picture after picture after picture on Google of people who were going through chemo, babies, the elderly, men, women, all kinds of people in various stages of cancer, I quickly began to realize that I am blessed. I have an end date to my chemo. I have a "life beyond". I have thirteen more treatments, yes, but I have ONLY thirteen more treatments, and then I can expect a relatively normal, cancer-free life. This season is a blip on life's radar for me. It is not the end of the road. It's just a bump. That's all. A bump. I am going through chemo, and I am blessed.
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