I woke up in a massive funk today. My body felt weird. My eyes burned. My head ached. My stomach hurt. My brain, sluggish. My heart, blah. I’m wondering if those things, though somewhat normal for me, were amplified because I had terrible dreams last night about getting phone calls from my oncologist that the cancer was back…dreams where I had to go to the infusion room for more chemo, dreams of the ick that I know far too intimately, dreams of a bald head…again, dreams that connected with very difficult memories. And I’m guessing the dreams have something to do with yesterday’s anniversary of chemo round 5 infusion day.

So today I chose to simply listen to my body, to let the deep down nausea of traumatic memories be present and remind me of difficult days, to not let shame quiet authenticity but instead to give the authenticity a voice and to let the trauma matter. I think we all, at times, tend to dismiss past trauma as “that was then…buck up now” but I chose not to do this today. I gave myself permission to let the memory be hard, to let my body feel it. Because inherent in the hard is the grit to survive it and being at the bottom of the pit gives you an “up-perspective” like no other thing can…

What did you choose to do today?

Today I…
Sunday: Learned. 
Monday: Chose; said yes/no to. 
Tuesday: Loved. 
Wednesday: Prayed. 
Thursday: Was challenged by/to. 
Friday: Am grateful for. 
Saturday: Saw grace in

*Post 1009

5.2 :: 1/4/18 :: Post 127

Day 5.2 was tolerable on the physical side of things. Some pretty bad heartburn… fatigue… and the body temp fluctuations were brutal and annoying. But I’ve had a pretty decent appetite and have not had too bad of nausea. 

On the emotional side of things, I’ve been extremely low. I haven’t cried much, but just feel down. I haven’t wanted to talk much…I haven’t wanted to do much (even though we had lots on the calendar today)…I haven’t cared too much about anything. I just feel blah. 

So once again, nothing has been the same. 

Tomorrow I get to meet my Radiation Oncologist. I’m looking forward to talking through the details of what is coming next. Getting some unknowns clarified. Getting a loose plan down on paper. 

That said, I’m hoping to feel well enough to go to that appointment and be present and then have enough energy and feel well enough to stay at Rose for a hydration treatment. It’ll be another long day of being up, out and about and social. 

I’m so tired. Sleep sounds wonderful.

Definition :: 1/4/19 :: Post 479

I had a moment today where I reflected on just how exhausted I am. I move from one thing to the next in my day-to-day routine that every now and then, when I take a minute to let it all pause, it comes crashing into me. The tiredness. The exhaustion. The reality of what I am battling. The reality of who I am now and who I am becoming.

Some people have said to me, “don’t let cancer define you”…..but there is something wrong with that statement. I think people are scared of allowing the hard things in life to be a part of their identity. To be a part of their definition. And I think people are scared to allow the hard things in life define those they are close to or care about. The issue, though, is that if you’re the one going through the hard thing, it most certainly is defining every part of you. E v e r y. P a r t. And then for someone to tell you not to makes you think you’re “doing it wrong” and that something is inherently wrong with you because every part of you is being defined by the very thing people tell you doesn’t need to matter enough to become a part of your definition even though you feel every bit defined. In the end you’re stuck with a very confused heart because you can’t help but recognize the forever impact this hard thing has had on you yet people work hard not to see the impact because it’s too hard for them to see it. And when people around you don’t see it, they don’t actually see you. 

And that is really a hard isolation. 

Bear in mind, I’m not saying we need to walk around with signs all over ourselves announcing all of our definitions and hard things, but if you know someone who is enduring hard things, choose to SEE them. ALL of who they are. Accepting that there is no “end date” or “back to normal” or “return to the way it was before”… And when you do, you’ll be far more empathetic and validating to what they are walking through, what they are working hard to survive, what they are experiencing…..what they are becoming. Because they will forever be changed. 

880 :: 1/4/20 :: Post 840

I took a couple of days off of writing. It was good for me…it allowed me the space to make sure that I desire to write for myself and for what I want to remember versus writing out of obligation.

I’m not sure what 2020 will look like for me. I find myself in a strange place, yet again. Survivorship is odd – it will feel a certain way and I’ll think that is what it will be and then the winds shift and it feels different. I suppose I shouldn’t be all that surprised by that. 

• For the first time, maybe ever, I thought about what it would look like to do a vision board for the year…and yet, I also intend on living 5 minutes at a time. I’m not sure yet how to reconcile that. January is a tough month for me and there is a part of me that doesn’t want to do a darn thing (ugh, depression) and at the very same time, I feel an energy that is very new to me because of how new I actually am (thanks, transformation). 
• I won’t have any more surgeries every 8 weeks like I did in 2018/2019…and I’m learning to accept the fact that with all of the effort my surgeon and I put into reconstruction, radiation is stupidly stubborn and I’ll never get the results I want. 
• I went in and got my hair done today and something so seemingly simple was still incredibly emotional – I realized a few things. 1. I really struggle looking at myself in the mirror. 2. I do NOT want to spend any time doing my hair…it’s either because I resent it for growing back differently or it’s because I struggle with how I look and want to spend as little time as possible in front of the mirror or it could be that because I value my time differently, my hair doesn’t make the priority list. And while my stylist, an incredible gift to me, has done an amazing job walking with me (and my self-image) through this process, I still left her salon a hot mess of emotions because I just don’t know how to feel about it all. Not to mention the fact that we’re at a point in my hair growth that it’s now less about the process of  ‘growing it back out’ and more about just being a typical woman who goes and gets her hair done… that’s an odd junction to be at.

It’s all just so weird. And a lot to process. Even 880 days in…