I’ve been getting more and more exhausted from my treatments. Last Thursday, I hit my halfway mark. I have 6 more chemo sessions to go before – fingers crossed – I’m done. It’s been 4 months since I got on this roller coaster of a hell-ride. The time has crept by ever so slowly, and yet all at once, it has flown. And I think, wow, I’ve been fighting cancer for 4 whole months, and it’s still all so new to me.
The chemotherapy has started to take its toll now that I’m getting deeper into my treatment cycle. My hair is very thin now and it’s increasingly more difficult to hide the bald spots. Fatigue seems to shadow my every move. At this point, I’m beginning to lose my sense of self, or the self I was before all of this happened.
A few nights ago after treatment, when I was feeling particularly ill and tired, I decided to take a hot bath. Baths, by the way, are a wonderful way to relax when fighting cancer. I’ve been taking nearly 3 a day for the past month, and I love them. Epsom salt, which you can purchase at your local grocery store or pharmacy, works as a powerful soaking aid and can help with any body soreness that one may incur from chemo side effects.
Anyhow, that evening when I was taking a bath, I looked down at my body and failed to recognize it. One might say I had an out of body experience. I looked at myself and did not know who I was. My skin looked pale, my breasts unrecognizable from bloating, my nails cracked and dry. I felt like a stranger in the tub, detached from myself, ashamed, and afraid. Naturally, I started to cry.
It hit me. I am not the woman I was before this happened. She doesn’t exist anymore. Cancer hasn’t ruined or taken my life, but it is reshaping my life whether I like it or not. Now that I understand that I am changed and will never be quite the same again, I realize I am free to reinvent myself in whatever way I choose. I have been given a rare chance at a young age to face death in the eye and tell it to “fuck off!” So, where do I go from here?
Most people spend their days striving for the next best thing. We all grow up knowing that careers, marriage, children, and real-estate are the pieces that make up the American dream. It’s a path many of us tend to take, but what happens when a wrench gets thrown onto the trail? Cancer doesn’t seem to fit anywhere in the American dream, so where does that leave the cancer fighters like me?
To be honest, cancer is sort of like a forced time out. Most of my young adult life has been spent being busy, cramming what I thought was living into a tiny amount of time. I worked hard, I played hard, and I never seemed to get enough rest. Now I don’t have a choice. If I over-exert myself even just slightly, my body reminds me that I can’t. The treatments have made me weak, and my body needs to heal. There is no negotiating. I have to listen to my body!
I wish that it was more acceptable in today’s worker-bee society for people to take breaks. I’m not talking about a five minute smoke break after your shift is up at Wal-Mart, people. I mean a real break. Every one wants to please every one else. We all say yes to things even when we don’t want to or know we can’t. Why do we focus so much on pleasing others all the time? It’s so stressful! Cancer is teaching me that I have to let go of the small things, savor the good things, and treat my body like a porcelain temple. I’ve only got one life to live, and I want it to be a damn good one.
When I try to think about the positive things fighting cancer has brought to my table, quiet time to myself is on the top of the list. These past few months have given me some of the most spiritual and peaceful moments I’ve ever experienced. I’m learning to shut the unimportant chatter off in my brain and focus on the healing and love that surrounds me in my life. Sometimes, the most important thing you can do to keep living is breathe, and I realize now that every breath is precious.
4 Comments
April 8, 2009 at 5:34 pm
Time is a gift, too often wasted. I think it’s beautiful that you are willing to share this lesson with others.
I was actually thinking about the importance of time late last night, when I was writing a poem for my own blog. Cancer has taught me the value of time as well, though in a very different way.
Don’t lose touch with that knowledge, especially as the years pass (which they will for you, I have no doubt) and this fight slips further back in your memory. It’s so easy to forget things once they are over, but if you carry this with you, you will live a life full of joy.
My thoughts are with you
April 8, 2009 at 7:32 pm
Hi Cyndi –
Thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts. Your poetry is beautiful. Yes, time is a gift, and I hope that I can carry that knowledge with me beyond remission until the end of my days. You say that cancer has taught you the value of time as well. I’m curious – are you a cancer fighter yourself or did you experience it with someone you love? I’d love to hear your story.
Llana
April 23, 2009 at 1:13 am
Llana,
I am sitting at work in tears reading your blog. You are such a strong young lady that I am proud to call my niece (in-law). You and Matt are very special people and extremely inspirational. The strength you display in your attitude in winning this war within your body is unbelievable. I think about you guys often (I have too, my son reminds me of how much he thinks Matt is super cool) and I worry about you and Matt. I love your website and your new image!
Keep your chin up, keep rested, put your feet up and make your husband do the dishes!
I love you guys very much
Bill
PS. Bald chicks are cute!
April 23, 2009 at 7:24 am
Bill, I’m so glad you took the time to read my blog. Things are going as well as can be on this end of things. Your thoughts and prayers are very much appreciated. We need all the encouragement we can get! Matt says hello. Miss you guys.
Llana