The FOLFOXIRI was so rough I decided to throw a halfway party for myself as reward. I needed desperately to acknowledge and celebrate my success. To all my dear friends and family that made the drive (and those that were there in spirit), thank you!
The past two weeks I've spent my time visiting with friends that I haven't found time, or I had to cancel plans due to chemo. And getting some time in with the nieces and nephews while I had energy. No joke. The last time I played puzzles with Brooklynn I was so weak I had to tap out after two. Add chemo brain to the mix. I got schooled by a four year old! It wasn't pretty.
TMNT with Rylan. Candyland with Brooklynn. A carousel ride with Jackson. Mother's blueberry cobbler. My spirits are fully recharged. I'm feeling strong and ready for the next surgery.
In other news, I took the cue ball out in public for the first time. The wig is too hot and miserable to wear outside in the summer. I honesty forget I'm walking around bald, at least until I notice the stares and double takes. It's okay. Everyone has a cancer story, right? I convinced myself I reminded them of their loved one or friend with cancer.
You know what would be great, if those stares were followed with a word of encouragement. Being on this side has made me rethink my own reaction. Tell her she's beautiful. Tell her she's strong. Change her story. Imagine. If someone had the courage to reach out, my story would be completely different. Our words have power, use them well.
People walking around trying to hide themselves behind an all together facade don't know how to respond to transparent courage, but they do want--need--to see it. It's good for them to take a good, long look at you.
ReplyDeleteI think you are beautiful. I think you are strong. You'll be ok. You're a fighter. I am glad to know you. I meant everything I just said.
ReplyDeleteI think you are beautiful. I think you are strong. You'll be ok. You're a fighter. I am glad to know you. I meant everything I just said.
ReplyDelete