It's Time

I've written at least 5 other posts before this post and have deleted them all.  Again - what do people want to read and know about?  How about this...I don't complain as much as I did in the beginning of treatment.  I have come to terms this is my new normal for a while so just suck it up.  I.  Am.  Alive.  And we are aggressively fighting these darn cancer cooties to their death.

That being said...

What else do the masses want to know?  Remember that one post I said I wasn't going to lose my hair?  Well, I was also told that my hair could start thinning.  I had no idea what that meant up until 4 weeks ago.  I woke up one night with hair in my mouth.  What the heck?  Then, I went to my therapy appointment for my lymphedema and was laying down while my OT (occupational therapist) worked miracles on my sausage leg (I no longer have a major lymphatic system in my left leg because of my cancer and therefore the fluid doesn't know where to go and just stays in my one leg and really makes it look like a fat, juicy sausage.  Beautiful) and I got up, looked at the pillow and it was COVERED in hair.  My hair to be exact.  My scalp hurts a lot too.  Not everyday.  On the days it does hurt (like today), more hair disappears.  I now have two receding hair lines, just like those men who start losing their hair.  I keep asking my studly husband to check the back of my head just in case I start getting the bald spot there.  My oncologist told me not to do anything drastic, like shave all my hair off.  He's had others on this treatment who started losing hair but no one went bald and their hair grew back afterwards.  Ok.  I trust the dude.  I will make do with what I have.

One more thing - what has been hard for me the past couple of weeks is how my treatment really dictates what kind of day I will have.  For example, today is Sunday.  I always go to church with the family on Sundays.  I love going to church.  I love going with my family.  But, sometimes, I just can't do it because the treatment is making me feel "off."  Today is one of those "off" days.  My husband convinced me to stay home.  So, I'm home because of the treatment that is getting rid of my pesky cancer cooties.  But you know what?  That's ok.  I need to keep telling myself that.  I have until July to feel "off" (treatment will be done by then).  Right?  I struggle with this though.  I really do.  I pretty much know what kind of day I will have the moment I wake up.  Today, I knew I wouldn't be going anywhere.  Yesterday?  I had a lot of energy and conned my brother into painting my kitchen with me.  I love those days.  I shower, I get a lot of things done around the house and it feels good.

But, I'm not going to complain.  I keep thinking about that day the oncologist came into my dad's hospital room telling him and us that he had 3 months to 3 years to live.  Stupid colon cancer.  There is no cap on my life like my father's.  Yes, life is a little bit harder than it was 6 months ago.  But I'm still living it.  Honest to goodness - the good days really do outweigh the "off" days.  My dad lived 11 months after that day in the hospital room.  The last couple months of his life were spent in a hospital bed in the middle of our living room.  But the months before that were spent LIVING.  He was always good at that and he continued to do it even with the threat of death.  One of my favorite memories of my dad during that time was coming home for the weekend from the cities to spend time with him.  We did together what he loved doing best - yard work.  I remember pulling weeds out of his rhubarb patch and he followed behind to till the soil.  There is this picture of us from that day - his arm was around my shoulders and we were smiling.  We had just got done making his rhubarb patch all pretty and it felt GOOD.  Good to be with my dad and good to share that experience with my dad as well.  There are so many questions I would ask my dad now that I didn't know to ask him while he was alive.  What were his struggles in being diagnosed with terminal cancer?  Was he scared?  Was he angry?  Did he ever get used to his limitations?  I'm sure my  mom saw and heard a lot more than we did, just as my husband does now.  I miss my dad.  A lot.  But I'm going to continue to remember how he lived after the horrible news of his cancer spreading.  He brought so much joy and laughter in people's lives - he never stopped doing that until the day he took his last breath.  He was pretty freaking amazing.

Anyway...this post has been rather therapeutic for me today.  Whew.  I'm going to go lay down now and rest so I can feel not "off" tomorrow!  Meanwhile - please comment and ask me anything!  What do you want/need to know about what I'm going through?  What are you curious about?  Go ahead and give me ideas on what to write about.  Anything.  Anything at all.  Feel free to be my therapist!  Until then...