Taking the bad with the good

It’s been so hard to write. Either time is flying through my fingers keeping busy with the kids on summer vacation. Or I am feeling miserable about cancer and don’t want to write with the negative half empty glasses on. Perhaps doing so will be therapeutic.

I had a wonderful day of news when I learned my tumours had shrunk by over 60% after only a few treatments. Unheard of really. I celebrated for some time. We travelled to Toronto for a big family reunion and Lucas went on his first canoe tripping camp. I went to Callanish Healing Retreat with a wonderful group of mothers. But eventually the fear of my tumours returning or not responding any further set in. 

To tell you the truth I’m finding it difficult to settle into “living with metastatic cancer.” Some days I am thriving and inspiring while on others I am a blubbering whiny lazy lump. And it’s a constant yoyo between them. 

On rough days I am shocked by moments of self pity. I feel green with jealousy over friend’s good fortunes.  On social media it looks like everyone is having the best time of their lives in this gorgeous BC weather while I writhe around trying to nap waiting for the pain medications to kick in.  I observe from a distance as some of my cancer friends move away from this life. For a moment or a day or a week all I can feel is the horror of cancer. 

I wrote this in my last cycle as the chemo was settling into my body:

I miss my eyelashes

Chemo is settling in 

It starts in my hips, my pelvis 

Then there is a deep burning ache spreading down from my hips right to my feet

The bottom of my feet are burning and throbbing

The crack in my heel screaming out

I can feel it all the way up my spine 

Various aches at each spinal level

My shoulder blades, down my arms

My hands are aching

My finger tips are numb 

The hangnails are driving me crazy

My neck feels stiff and sore

My stomach churns when I move around 

My belly feels bloated

I wake to the feeling of knives in my throat

A dry clumpy hairball behind my sinuses 

My eyelashes are almost gone

My eyebrows are barely discernible

My head is bald

This of all things doesn’t bother me

I am proud to be bald

But I hate not having eyelashes and eye brows.

This is chemo

Over and over and over again

A 3 week cycle of pain, stomach issues, diarrhea and unbelievable fatigue

No end in sight

If I want to live

I will be on chemo forever

As long as I live

Shall I repeat that?

As long as I live I will be on some form of chemo

No break from feeling crappy

Constantly medicated to manage it

But I am alive 

And lucky to be 

Then I awake another day and feel blessed, lucky and loved. My dogs are wagging  their bodies and kissing me. My kids are surprising me with new insights and skills. My husband has cleaned and reorganized the living room and I love it. I finish my chemo marathon and with the help of some meds for side effects I get to enjoy a local artwalk block party, our own block party, a couple of hours at the lake with the dogs. 

And honestly, the most beautiful thing has been happening lately. My friends are digging deep helping me raise money to pay for my miraculous medication, Perjeta. We’re talking big events to raise big money.  People who don’t know me at all, know me very little or who love me like family are just handing me money and offering to help organize. It remains very difficult for me to accept this. Money for nothing? I don’t feel I have anything to offer in return. I do not feel like a big worthy cause on my own. I look around and see so many important causes in this world. But as one friend said to me, “Get over it. People want to help you so let them.” So I accept it. And make plans to make a difference for everyone with metastatic cancer. And to kick cancer’s ass to infinity and beyond....