Honeymoon’s over, Weird Cancer Guy

Sorry about going dark for two days, but Round 3 flattened me. Just barely crawling out of it after being so tired and heavy, I couldn’t lift my head up, think or even talk. I need pills to not barf and pills to sleep. I feel like Elvis. Today, I dragged myself outside and took Xena for a walk, barely. Then, I saw two vibrant moms from school running up the hill, laughing. I caught up to them at a mailbox while they stretched and told them I was living vicariously through them. When I got home, I cried a pathetic feel-sorry-for-myself cry. I guess I can have at least one, right? Pinkie swear, I haven’t cried since the day I found out I had cancer. Regular life just feels so far away and unattainable, but I keep telling myself at least I have a chance at normal. Some of the cancer moms I’ve met through this won’t. My cancer is nowhere near as severe as theirs. Even still, there’s no getting around letting chemo do what it’s supposed to – this sucks. 

THREE POSITIVES:

1- All the pain is worth it if I get to stay with my family and be a fantastic mom to my kids. They’re the best team I’ve ever been a part of. Brian said I should let myself cry. 

2- Trina brought me a burst of fresh tulips in the middle of winter and much-needed red-blood-cell boosting iron supplements. Even better, she sat down and talked to me – I so needed that.

3- In a flash, Lisa heard I was struggling, somehow found the perfect card and wrote magic words that made me feel empowered again.