Yesterday is 2018:

Home

Got home around noon today. They said I was recovering well. Dr. Williams, once again, said “congratulations.”

Yes. There is much to celebrate. 

As I lay here tonight, I am emotional. I’m in pain. I have a rash all over from the topical cleanser they used before cutting me open. And I have dreadful heartburn. 

One day at a time. And each day will get better. I must remain patient as hard as that is.

Today in 2018:

Time

Not in the mood to write much. Feeling discouraged. In pain. Rash is maddening. Replaced belly button is crooked. Headache. Heartburn. Uneven new boobs.

Trust the process. Trust the process. This is not the end. 

The end comes after a lot more pain. 

Ugh.

And a lot more time. 

Yesterday in 2019:

Every 8 Weeks

Over the course of the last year, I’ve had to gear up for attempt after attempt at rebuilding what cancer took. Every 8 weeks would mark another surgery. Every 8 weeks I’d have to fill my pre-surgery meds. Every 8 weeks I’d have to figure out what PTO I needed and who was covering my office while I was recovering. Every 8 weeks I’d have to go get naked pictures taken so my doc could make a plan. Every 8 weeks I’d have to go in and have him draw all over me and determine where ‘the best fat was.’ Every 8 weeks I’d have to prepare myself for the full compression bodysuit that I’d wake up in. Every 8 weeks I’d put my body through anesthesia and the recovery from it. …Tomorrow is the 8-week mark from my last surgery and it’s strange that this is the first time in a year that I am not gearing up for another attempt.

It’s also strange that I sit here tonight wondering if I’d choose to do this all over again if I had known what I know now. 

While my body is ugly and scarred, my surgeon has been one of my biggest cheerleaders and one of my biggest advocates. He has held my life in his hands as he has tried to put the ‘outside me’ back together so that the ‘inside me’ can try and make sense of the brutality of cancer. He has been patient and steadfast to the process…he has been patient and steadfast to me. And while I have no idea if I would choose this all over again if offered that chance, I’m grateful for all that I have learned through it.

Today in 2019:

Gravity.

aka enormity….

…..significance.

……….seriousness.

……………severity.

Tonight, the gravity of cancer is laying heavy on my heart. I will never be free from it….I will never be the same.

In some regards, and as I’ve written before, I’m grateful for the transformation. And in others, I am so bitter that cancer has colored the entirety of whatever remains of my existence. 

The reality is that cancer is my constant companion….. Sure, I have much left to learn from it and there is no doubt that the story is powerful (I mean, come on, I survived a terrible car accident just to be diagnosed with advanced stage cancer 10 days later), but constant is a heavy inevitability to accept. Constant is a deep gravity.