Silver lining?

Oh.  My.  God.  I have never been so sick in my whole life.  After 14 chemo infusions in 14 weeks my body cried uncle and I wound up taking a trip to the hospital.  I literally thought I was dying.    Turns out I wasn't and that the shivering and sweating through everything is nothing more then "chemo sweats".  Have you ever seen a movie where somebody comes off of heroin?  That's pretty much what it looked like.  I lost 8 pounds in 6 days and I am still not able to eat a thing.  So maybe a future flat tummy is the silver lining here?  Come on universe, throw me a bone.

My newly bald head surprisingly gains a lot of attention while out in public.  I have had all sorts of different responses and reactions that I was not prepared for.  Through this I cant help but think about all the people who don't blend in.  Who never did.  I can only assume that every person out there wants exactly what I do.  To feel like I belong to this world, to be validated.  I have always blended in just fine.  If I stand out its usually because I want to.  When somebody stares at me I am usually flattered.  I think, "I must look good today...eat your heart out!"  Okay, maybe not that last part but you get the idea. But now, when people stare I know exactly what they are looking at.   Slightly wider eyes take in my obvious illness and then quickly look away.  They don't want to think about it, it's too uncomfortable.  Does it make their oh shit meter go off?  Confront them with their own mortality?  Thankfully, not everyone reacts this way.  Some peoples eyes don't quickly dart away from mine but instead soft eyes smile sweetly at me, knowingly.  As if they see the normal girl beneath it all.  Those people are my favorite.  At the end of this I get to look normal again, I get to once again choose when I want to be looked at.  I never put a lot of thought into what it must be like to not have the choice.  To stand out no matter what you do, to be different forever.  Now, those are the people that I think about when I walk through a store with my bald head out and proud.  I can do this.  Besides, who wants to blend in anyways?

Red Devil

Ugh.  It's here.  The day that I start my new round of chemo.  Looks charming right?  I'm freaking out a little.  Okay, way more then a little.  I am used to all of symptoms that Taxol gifted me, bloody noses, bone pain, nerve pain, headaches, nausea, ect!  On Taxol I knew that my weekends would be spent in bed but by Tuesday I'd be feeling much better.  Now I have 3 new drugs  F.E.C pumping into my system over the next 5 hours and no clue how any of them will make me feel.  Here's hoping.

Then there is this.  The pile of drugs that I now get to consume daily.  When I went to the pharmacy to pick up these beauties the pharmacist asked what drugs I was currently on.  My answer?  None.  From none to this.  Lovely.

Luckily I have these beautiful baldies to entertain me.  Our time is spent catching up with our Roonie in Hawaii and laughing to the point of tears.  Mom took on the task of writing Adam's term paper on Sexual Morality which made for loads of interesting conversation.  Chemo shouldn't be this fun.

Head shaving party!

"Life itself is made up of many small pictures.  Our lives are defined in a trillion small ways, small pictures, memories and moments that represent who we are and what we are.  Every day life isn't about the big picture, at least not until the end.  Every day life is about being present in each and every moment."-My mom

This, my loves, was a tiny magical moment.  Thank you for honoring me in the most beautiful way you knew how.

Cancer Filter

Every single thought I have now has to pass through the cancer filter.  It's not that I have sentenced myself to death but more because I am brutally aware of how alive I am right now, in this moment.  For the most part, the awareness it is a gift, I forgive a little faster and hug my children a little tighter.  But on the flip side I am constantly bombarded with very dark yet totally realistic thoughts of death.  My brain cannot send my son off to his first day of 5th grade without wondering how many more grades I will get to see him through.  Or comb my daughter's hair without wondering who would do it when I am gone. And above all else, I have this urgency to turn my sometimes audacious son into a compete gentleman, stat. Sadistic?  Maybe, but I can't help it.  While watching T.V. last night my husband and I found ourselves in a conversation about what clothes were appropriate for teenage girls and all I could think was "I cannot die and leave my husband to dress our little girl" .  Sorry, babe.  I need to be there for them, there just isn't another option.  But I do wish my good days and increasingly positive attitude weren't so clouded by that damn cancer filter.

I am on the tail end of Taxol, the current chemo drug I am on.  Somehow I have made it without losing all my hair.  I start 3 new chemotherapy drugs in the next 2 weeks and I was told that these drugs cause severe hair loss.  This is what it looks like now.  Head shaving party soon? Who's in?