The first slap

The first slap
This photo was taken the day after I was diagnosed, and it is my first bitch slap at cancer. I'm the one with the icepack symbolically placed on my boob. My teammates changed our team's uniform to pink at the last minute, and I came off the soccer field that night with one goal and a whole lot of love. Several of these women are my close friends, but they are all warriors, and they all helped me set the tone for this fight.

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

It's alright

Last night I had a dream that my mom and I were shopping for hats and earrings, lost track of time, and missed today's doctor's appointment and my last chemo. The feeling is a bit like those dreams that I (and many people) have of missing the school bus or a final exam. Hmmm... What does it all mean? Well, I'm not 100% sure what it all means, but here are a few thoughts. First of all, I must make public that my dreams have shifted from really scary things to milder turmoils; from "oh shit, I have cancer" to more mundane little fears like missing appointments and school buses.

And significantly, today is my last scheduled chemotherapy infusion. As usual, I'm not looking forward to it (sort of like I wouldn't look forward to a final exam), but I am at the same time thrilled to be able to put this behind me. While my other infusions have been accompanied by the knowledge that I would feel like hell for a week, then good for a week, and then like hell for another week, this time I get to look forward to constant improvement in how I feel; a gradual but continued emergence from the nausea, fogginess, and sluggishness. This is in addition to other side effects that have been taking hold as the chemicals build up in my system: Fingernails breaking like nobody's business, a greenish tinge to my complexion, dark circles under my eyes, continued hair loss, mild neuropathy in my fingertips, and exhaustion even beyond my post infusion week. (As I've said before, I think the EPA would shut me down if they knew what was flowing through my veins.) But after today I will be over the biggest hump in my treatment, and it should be smooth sailing from here on out, with a steady process of detox, until...

RADIATION! That should start on June 4th, but it's very localized with minimal side effects. I should feel more like a person, my hair will start growing back, etc. But in celebration of finishing up chemotherapy and in anticipation of the last major stage of my treatment, here's a song for you all: The Beatle's Here Comes the Sun. The video is admittedly over-flowing with hyper cute little baby animals, but on the other hand, meaningful milestones and awesome songs will do that to people. And the sun theme seems fitting given my upcoming radiation. :-) One of the things I appreciate about this song is the gradual move from sweet and quiet anticipation of good things over the horizon to an emphatic exclamation point of those good things to come, and the knowledge that while things have been difficult, it's alright. Present tense. Indeed, it's alright.


1 comment:

  1. What a perfect song on a rainy day like today! I don't think I've heard it for about 20 years. I'm glad you posted the link as it really is a great song (. . . although hearing songs from that era makes me realize how they all seem to have that "tinny" (tin can) sound; just lacks the richness of music produced today. Still, I love that song and really enjoyed listening to it and even enjoyed the "hyper cute animals"!

    B t w, either you must have some incredibly good make-up since I have not noticed any greenish complexion or dark circles under your eyes, or you are projecting how you feel onto how you think you look. Sure, not much hair usually isn't something that adds to a person's good looks, but other than that, you look unbelievably great and healthy. That's actually something I've been struck by every time I see you -- you just look so good!!!

    It was great hanging with you today and I look forward to seeing you again once you come out of your final chemo-induced nauseated and fatigued la-la-land!!

    Happy dreams tonight!
    Cathrine

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