It's Herceptin day which means an hour ride into the cancer center. This morning though I was greeted by one of the cutest little 8 month old baby's fascinated by a wallet on the floor. I then decided every cancer center should be filled with healthy babies because nothing brings a smile to a sick persons face than a chubby cheek kid filled with a sweet potatoes face grin. B and I were buddies as I attempted to get her to crawl chatting with; who I assumed was Mom. As I learned it was girlfriend and mom was in getting infusion and couldn't bring adorable baby in with her. Brilliant girlfriend facetines with mom during her infusion helping her pass the time while getting to watch adorable B performing for strangers. After a while I looked quietly at a magazine while girlfriend read to her partner from a book. I didn't want to appear to nosy, as I stretched my ear to listen, but the book was full of inspirational thoughts and relaxation techniques. I teared up while browsing TIME magazine. This was the definition of love and support.
To my right was a Mom arriving in a pink scarf escorted by her school aged son also wearing a pink scarf. For a moment I was terrified they both had cancer but it was just the loving gesture by her child to support mom. She came in smiling ear to ear carrying trays of cookies. It was her last chemo day she told me. I instinctively stood up and hugged her tight wishing her all the best as I got pulled in the back for a blood draw followed by infusion. Cancer sucks but I gotta tell you, the love you see while witnessing cancer is pretty damned amazing.
On any given day I have a different response to the how are you question.
Any given moment to be honest.
I'm an irritable moody mess who is then happy and chilled and feeling that I'm totally getting this cancer thing and then I feel sickened that I have to have surgery and I google shirt that holds drains post surgery and then I feel my hair which is growing back wavy in the back and curse the cancer for making me have short hair and then I google surviving cancer and then I feel okay because I find blogs of women who feel like me.
So there you have it.
The biggest run on sentence ever written by the woman who goes from zero to 60 in 10 seconds.
That about sums up the last 10 months.
I almost forget what life was like 10 months ago.
I'm pretty confident I was still complaining of my 20 extra lbs and tweens rolling their gorgeous eyes at me but I forget what my normal felt like.
Wasn't it just a day ago that I was lunching with a friend laughing about the stress of 7th grade math and now I'm on the internet googling when can you drive after FLAP surgery and headaches from your 5 year preventative cancer pill.
I google pixie hair cut ideas on pinterest and articles about how long will it take until I get my hair back. (Apparently your hair grows 1/2 inch a month. Except if you're my two boys who need haircuts a day after they get one)
I google things like bras post surgery and then spend hours shopping for button down pajamas that are cute and comphy (because if you're going to be wearing button downs for 4 weeks straight comphy is a must and you should really always look cute when you get a new breast because after all, it is a once in a lifetime occasion. Unless you're me where it happens to you twice on the same side and then you cry because only you would need to get a new/same breast twice).
And then you see JLO on TV without make up pleading for hurricane relief in Puerto Rico and you feel crappy because you realize you are doing okay in your house with a roof and your fridge filled with food and water and you feel sickened about all the natural disasters that have been going on the past few weeks but somehow you still think of how even without makeup and her hair in a messy bun JLO still looks gorgeous and you still think how cancer sucks.
So I know there will be normal again but I'm not quite sure what that will look like yet. For now I'm sitting with tubes in my port getting medicine poured into me which will hopefully prevent me from having to ever do this again after February 2018.
So yea- not sure what new normal will be...
I'm guessing however it will look like a giant run on sentence.
To my right was a Mom arriving in a pink scarf escorted by her school aged son also wearing a pink scarf. For a moment I was terrified they both had cancer but it was just the loving gesture by her child to support mom. She came in smiling ear to ear carrying trays of cookies. It was her last chemo day she told me. I instinctively stood up and hugged her tight wishing her all the best as I got pulled in the back for a blood draw followed by infusion. Cancer sucks but I gotta tell you, the love you see while witnessing cancer is pretty damned amazing.
On any given day I have a different response to the how are you question.
Any given moment to be honest.
I'm an irritable moody mess who is then happy and chilled and feeling that I'm totally getting this cancer thing and then I feel sickened that I have to have surgery and I google shirt that holds drains post surgery and then I feel my hair which is growing back wavy in the back and curse the cancer for making me have short hair and then I google surviving cancer and then I feel okay because I find blogs of women who feel like me.
So there you have it.
The biggest run on sentence ever written by the woman who goes from zero to 60 in 10 seconds.
That about sums up the last 10 months.
I almost forget what life was like 10 months ago.
I'm pretty confident I was still complaining of my 20 extra lbs and tweens rolling their gorgeous eyes at me but I forget what my normal felt like.
Wasn't it just a day ago that I was lunching with a friend laughing about the stress of 7th grade math and now I'm on the internet googling when can you drive after FLAP surgery and headaches from your 5 year preventative cancer pill.
I google pixie hair cut ideas on pinterest and articles about how long will it take until I get my hair back. (Apparently your hair grows 1/2 inch a month. Except if you're my two boys who need haircuts a day after they get one)
I google things like bras post surgery and then spend hours shopping for button down pajamas that are cute and comphy (because if you're going to be wearing button downs for 4 weeks straight comphy is a must and you should really always look cute when you get a new breast because after all, it is a once in a lifetime occasion. Unless you're me where it happens to you twice on the same side and then you cry because only you would need to get a new/same breast twice).
And then you see JLO on TV without make up pleading for hurricane relief in Puerto Rico and you feel crappy because you realize you are doing okay in your house with a roof and your fridge filled with food and water and you feel sickened about all the natural disasters that have been going on the past few weeks but somehow you still think of how even without makeup and her hair in a messy bun JLO still looks gorgeous and you still think how cancer sucks.
So I know there will be normal again but I'm not quite sure what that will look like yet. For now I'm sitting with tubes in my port getting medicine poured into me which will hopefully prevent me from having to ever do this again after February 2018.
So yea- not sure what new normal will be...
I'm guessing however it will look like a giant run on sentence.
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