The hair is gone, or mostly. I look like a wispy toe-head....an 80 year-old, toe-head. Thought I was making it through this last round of chemo fairly well, and all things considered, I suppose I have. Played tennis on Saturday and won with my partner Janelle! I love running and hitting the ball and feeling almost normal. Normal would be no thoughts of chemo, cancer, wondering if I'll make it through this battle. The nausea is continuing with stomach pain. The ct scan at the Mayo Clinic last week showed my right kidney enlarged. I get so tired at work, want to spend too much time sleeping and then hate that I am wasting precious time sleeping when time truly is so very precious.
I long to feel pretty and sexy for my husband. Yet, bald, skinny and a scarred body is the reflection in the mirror and there isn't anything pretty or sexy about it. I long for the carefree days riding on the back of the motorcycle, holding on tight to my loving guy with more love and joy in my heart than should have ever been legal and foolishly thinking those days would last forever.
I don't like to get into thoughts of fairness or why me, because I inevitably answer, "why not?" There is nothing fair about cancer so I won't waste thoughts on it.
Chemo is the chance to make it all go away and let me live. But it zaps all energy, and for a hyperactive person like myself, that is a killer in and of itself.
I just want to get it done with, again for the second time. Grow my hair back out. Make mad passionate love with my husband and not cringe from my reflection in the mirror.
And then there is the mountain home. The dream house my husband bought me. It gives me hope that one day we will be able to enjoy being mountain hippies and just soak in all the beautiful energy that is there. I know it's not his dream, it is mine, but it's that dream right now that gets me up in the morning putting one foot in front of the other.
Cancer sucks, chemo is tough, but this chick isn't about to give up the fight anytime soon.