If I'm being honest
I have mixed feelings about being done with chemo. Of course I'm happy that a box is checked but as previously mentioned- I'm not dancing around my house just yet. There's too much still in front of me and in a way this step being completed just seems like I still have a half marathon to go.
I have mixed feelings about being done with chemo. Of course I'm happy that a box is checked but as previously mentioned- I'm not dancing around my house just yet. There's too much still in front of me and in a way this step being completed just seems like I still have a half marathon to go.
I know- glass half empty.
The good side is my hair will at some point start growing back which is great bc I'm getting headaches from wearing something on my head all the time but on the anxiety side (which I'm queen of) I'm afraid it's going to grow back like a gray poodle and people may start calling me "Fifi".
If I'm being honest,please don't think I'm so strong. You all would be doing the same thing (because I gotta tell you - there's really very little choice) and I may appear strong but believe me I have so many meltdowns. I'm quite hard on myself and looking in a mirror is tough. The physicals scars vs the emotional ones- I'm not sure which are worse. (Although the physical ones are itchier. )
If I'm being honest, I'm quite tired and forgive me for not wanting to be social all the time. Don't worry that I'm falling into a depression because I promise you I remember to laugh and smile and chat with friends- and lord knows I'm remembering to eat (damned you steroids and chemo and stress) but yea- the social thing; I'm just not feeling quite yet. I feel your love and it means everything - truly it lifts me up.
If I'm being honest, my sister in law is the bomb and ran out to find me white chocolate Twix bars that so far I've only found in NYC- totally made turning 49 with cancer more bearable. Because chocolate on a chemo day is a much better aroma than chicken- which I can't even fathom right now.
Chemo mate today was a very angry old man and a daughter who appeared to have lost her patience months ago. I understand dear daughter, because you're doing your best but nothing is good enough. You cannot say anything right. You cannot take these weekly appointments away or the needles that go into his port. I know you've heard him complain about his stomach aches and pains and trips to the bathroom over and over but you are his village people. He wants a sheet over him because the blanket is too warm and a yogurt is just not his food of choice. He's screaming about the ultrasound they just tagged onto his day because he is just tired- so tired- and so sick of cancer that he just doesn't have any energy to have another test at this moment and unfortunately dear daughter- we take it out on the ones we love. We do this because we know that the love is unconditional.
Take a walk to the healing garden at mass general and breathe. Take a minute to breathe. And remind your dad to do the same.
If I'm being honest, I'm tired today too but I know tomorrow is a whole new day. And maybe we won't complain.
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