War.

One of the first things I ever blogged about was the frustration I had over the words "Survivor","Fighter","Warrior".  I was angry with those words, disconnected from them.  Why did some women feel so powerful while I felt like a thousand tiny shattered pieces?  My fear was too consuming to feel anything but petrified.  And frankly, I found some of the "girl power" paraphernalia a bit cheesy.  I just didn't get it.

Today, it is with great respect and understanding that I now call myself a Survivor.  Fighter.  Warrior.  After all, that is exactly what this is.  A battle.  This is war.  A fight for life, for love, for everything.  It took an army of soldiers to get me here.  Friends, family, and complete strangers that fought beside me and at times for me.  In war there are casualties, losses, deaths.  I caused damage and hurt so deep that I lost people I never thought possible to lose.  I lost parts of me that I miss so completely.  Beyond the chemo and surgeries that lay ahead, there is still a war left to fight inside of me.  I fight the demons inside my head every hour, sometimes every minute.  And as much as I hate to admit it, it's often every second.  It never goes away, it just gets more familiar.  Eventually you get used filtering every thought through a cranial cancer colander.

 

Link to Bell Ringing Video Click Here

On Friday, March 21st at 10am, I completed my 30th daily radiation treatment and got to ring my bell.  A woman named Louie was there with me everyday, taking care of me, and getting me through one of the scariest times of my life.  Thank you Louie.  My husband, kids, mom, and brother were there to watch me ring my victory bell.  It felt good. 

The burns from radiation continue to develop and worsen for a few weeks after treatment.  The picture below is of my chest today.  The folds by my armpits are called "dog ears" which are basically just piles of tissue being saved for reconstruction.  The burns are through and through, meaning I have burns through my body and onto my back.  I am in lots of pain and weird smelling fluid leaks from the treated areas.  My skin will be thicker and more leathery forever in those spots.  At this point my body feels so deformed, foreign.  I've lost my sexy.  But, I am alive and all of that stuff really doesn't bother me all that much anymore.  Besides, being cute is totally overrated. 

To those of you that lifted me up, let me fall, and carried me through these last few weeks, I need to say thank you.  For the childcare, the naps, the house cleaners, the prayers, and every word of encouragement.  Thank you for letting it be ugly, me be ugly, and for loving me anyways.

The Wall

Five weeks into my daily treatments and my skin is red, raw, and blistered.  This morning, the thought of getting to my 24th radiation treatment seemed all too impossible. My inner dialogue was whispering "Just sit up, now breathe, just put your feet on the floor, now breathe..."  Sometimes taking it one day at a time is just too daunting.  Sometimes it requires seconds, nanoseconds of pure fight.  There is a term among marathon runners called "The Wall", it refers to the moment where your body gives in and simply refuses to take another step.  I've hit The Wall.  As my fingers flick these keys, tears of defeat roll down my cheeks.  Requiring a deeper layer of surrender.  Its beyond strength, all of that has long been mustered.  I've simply surrendered.  Knowing the only way to break through The Wall is to put one foot in front of the other.  Radiation has robbed me of all my energy, stolen my patience, and fractured my faith.  So, sweet friends when you hear from me next it will be to the tune of my victory bell.  Friday the 21st will be my last radiation treatment.  With only a hand full of chemo's left to complete I can see the finish line.  But first, I just have to tear down this wall.

 If there is one thing worth fighting for.....it's this.

The best birthday present EVER.

Today is my birthday.  I'm 30.  Last year when I turned 29 I was instantly filled with anxiety over being 30.  30 simply sounded so much older!  I felt I should be more accomplished by age 30, have more money, or drive a better car.  I certainly didn't want to look old.  I wanted to forever be young, vital, and beautiful.  Oh, the irony and wit that the universe beholds.  I didn't like that I felt this way about aging.  I knew these thoughts were ridiculous and thought a change in mindset was in order.  I decided to spend my year doing 30 acts of kindness.  With my children in tow, we began leaving $1 bills in the toy bins at the 99cents store, paying for the people behind us at Starbucks, and leaving quarters at laundry mats and candy machines.  We had so much fun with it!  The slyness of it all, sneaking around, not getting caught, and oh the giggles.  Truly, it was a gift unto ourselves.

And then it ended.  2 months after I turned 29 my world flipped upside down.  Suddenly growing old would be what I would spend my life striving for.  Suddenly aging became all that mattered.  Would I even turn 30?  Gone were the carefree days filled with giggles and ease.  Joy heavily neglected.  The pause button pressed.  Watching and joining friends turning "Dirty 30!", I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't envious of the air surrounding their birthdays.  Young, wild, free.  I knew this year that my birthday would be spent boob-less, bald, blistered, and burnt.  Like everyday, I would spend the morning at radiation but planned to share a wonderful evening with my husband who happens to share my birthday (I am 6 hours older!).  Sadly, this Saturday, Adam's Great-Grandmother died at the age of 99.  At 2am the morning of my birthday my husband flew out to Indiana to pay his respects to a woman he loved very much.  Boob-less, bald, blistered, burnt, and now ALONE.  Just as I was reserving a pity party table for 1.....This happened.

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Also view video by clicking HERE

 Today I have been flooded with emails, blog comments, and phone calls from strangers who have been touched by my children's random acts of kindness.  A day that I thought was going to spent so dismal has been filled fully by joy and human kindness.  I was anything but alone today.  I am especially proud of my son, who went far out of his comport zone to make his mom's birthday wish come true.  Today I am honored to turn 30.  I am loved so fiercely by so many.  29 was spent fighting for my life.  30 will be spent living it.

A special thank you to my mom who made this sweet video and helped my kiddos execute the best birthday present EVER!


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