Bye Bye Chemo, I really won't miss you.

All the freaking feels this week. (Week of July 19, 2021) I will start off by saying I have handled myself with way more grace this week than planned. Monday was very somber for me. I was of course THRILLED to be ringing that damn bell and walk out the door knowing I do not have to go back next week! (At least, I don't have to go back for the bad stuff!)

The slight brain fog my IV steroids gave me had nothing on me this time. I was showered with love by the people who have been alongside me so far. My children got to see the place where I am spending so much, wait, wait, the place where I was (I said am, catch that?) spending my time. The nurses who ask about my kids every week got to see how cute my babies are. And my mom and dad got to watch me ring the bell. I did not go to college and when you graduated hair school the party was much different. So I decided I was going to bling out a pink graduation cap and give myself the "pat on the back" I deserve. We enjoyed tacos and good family time at my favorite place to make dinner memories, Olers. Kodi and Wolfeee treated me like a valedictorian. Then Tuesday came and she brought along her friend, Miss Emotional. I cried those damn menopause tears all day long about every single thing. I managed to get out of bed and get some things done but my brain would get reeling and down the bunny hole I would go. Mostly the tears were tears of joy. This is a very out of body experience for me. I am discovering so much about the universe around me.

I see things differently. My natural response, once a flat view of the world before us, is now being 2D and in some ways 3D. I am approaching relationships differently. I am handling parenting from a different view. But…. I have had a very hard time admitting that I am having a hard time. (heehee) I am struggling to talk about how this process has made me face my mortality. Let me explain my outlook of death for just a minute. I am still trying to discover some of my past and why this is but I have a distinct fear from my childhood of death. I remember sitting on my parents bed crying to my dad about not understanding what death would be like. I know he consoled me and that's all I got. Fast forward to last winter. I started therapy and was "uncovering childhood trauma" with my therapist and bam the death fear was back. Full force fear. I was in quarantine with Covid so I was trapped in a room with my fear. I think now God was sending me a pre-cancer gut check. He presented me the opportunity to open the door and peek before the big C came. I didn't work as hard as I should have. But I do believe there is no time like the present. So here we are 6 months into my cancer journey, one leg of the triathlon down and I am still working through my death fear. It's a process, we talked about healing last blog, to heal yourself from a lifetime diagnosis. I won't have cancer forever but I will be forever a cancer survivor. Thriving my way to the finish line. So how do you see your "changed" view as your normal view?

I don't have all the answers but I hope to continue to uncover new views and explore this life as deep and natural as I can. In the meantime, here are 5 life lessons chemotherapy has taught me.

1. Mean it when you say "One day at a time". This one is my #1 for a reason. One day while at the lake with Ali we were walking from our beach to the house ans she kept asking what we were doing on the days coming up. "Well tomorrow we can ask so and so to play", "I would like pancakes for breakfast on Wednesday". "The day after tomorrow can we do this or that". Pump the breaks sister! We are still here right now doing today! What have I created? Am I always so busy planning the next day that we forget to enjoy today? Yup, I sure am! Life fail.

1. Don't wait till you have a "cancer card" to start living. I have always been someone who will try new things. Wolfe's favorite story to tell is the first "trip" we ever took together was to Mohican with another couple. About 6 beers and half a float down the river later I decided those fancy (not fancy) ropes on the side of the bank, I was going to Tarzan that baby. I ended 2 ft away from where I started in a mud puddle with a bruised ass. But it was so much fun. It's been awhile since I swang from any ropes, but cancer awoke that spirit and reminded me to get up and swing again. Live one day at a time with your responsibilities in check.

1. Noone understands what your brain is saying and that's okay. It's between you and your God anyway. Whatever God or higher power you believe in is always, even when sometimes friends aren't. I find it really hard to relate to people these days. I listen to others complain about their hardships and I get bitter. Don't they know I have cancer?! It took me several months and some therapy to understand and convince myself that they care but they might not understand. But that doesn't mean they love or care about you any less.

1. Turn your obstacles into opportunities. I know you have heard the saying. "you grow through what you go through ''. That is 110% true. All our obstacles present us with an opportunity. What you do with that is not only up to you but it leads you to the next obstacle. And the world keeps turning.

1. It's your party and you can cry if you want to. YOU can do hard things, but those hard things sometimes suck. And sometimes crying makes one feel better. So cry, at home or in the store or your car or whatever makes you feel better. There is no shame in having a good cry and you do not need a reason.

Well I am officially 2 weeks post chemo graduation. Most of my chemo symptoms have gotten better but a handful are sticking around. I have a very sensitive stomach and my appetite has not woken back up. I finally have gotten rid of that horrible taste in my mouth so when I do eat meals they do taste good! I have had a mingarine most days which we think is a combination of me resuming "Emily speed" aka normal life, and a touch of steroid detox. My fingers and hands are still pretty achy, but they mostly hurt at night. I am still a basket of menopause mess and I can't decide which I hate the most, the hot flash or the night sweats! It is an absolute sin that all of this shit happens to women but I'll save my complaining for another blog all on its own. I have an MRI this week and we will hopefully get good news that the tumor is much smaller and that there are no new areas of concern. I have joined (and kind of started) a breast cancer support group that has been a great uplifter for my spirits. This is my new breastie bestie Crystal, this lady makes me laugh even when I want to cry. The universe sent her to me at just the right time and I am so glad we are walking our cancer journey somewhat together. Even with the love and support of my fluffle, cancer can still be lonely. Today we are one month from surgery! One foot step, one day at a time! xoxo