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.