I had my chemotherapy consult appointment today.
It was . . . overwhelming.
I made the choice to post my adventures in cancer on my blog and post updates on Facebook in an effort to hedge off questions and make it seem as though this were an ordinary, everyday kind of thing. But after today's appointment, it hit me that this is actually happening. And as grateful as I am that we are moving forward with the chemo--I want to make sure all the cancer cells are gone, so the likelihood of it returning is too--it's all a little terrifying.
The thing is, I still don't have a cancer that I'm going to die from. Not this year, nor in any future years. My cancer could come back, but that could be 20 or 30 years from now. Or, hopefully, it just won't. I'm not really "fighting a battle" against cancer. The battle is over, the chemo is just taking prisoners. But dying of cancer is not really the scary part. Living through the treatments is.
I start chemo on Monday. Treatments will last through February. And yes, I'm going to lose my hair. (Apparently that part is not negotiable.) And yes, it is probably going to suck. It's an excellent time of year, though, for chemotherapy. Navigating flu season with a lowered immune system sounds like just the sort of thrill I've been seeking. I'll also get to wear festive hats (actually, dying of cancer doesn't sound that bad) and scarves through all the best holidays, since starting on Monday means that I'm going through Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, New Year's, and Valentine's Day before finally being done.
I don't want to do it.
Today my stoicism broke and I'm having a hard time piecing it together. Maybe tomorrow will be better. If not, ask me again when my hair is back, at least, to the length of my collarbones. . .. I can't handle people being nice to me about it. Seriously. Stop it. Half of the tears shed today were from generous offers and well wishes. I am overwhelmed as it is.
In the meantime, if you find a giveaway and want to borrow my cancer as an excellent reason to win, as long as you promise I get to go too, then by all means. Let's milk this cancer for all it's worth!
Shellie, I am so sorry to hear about your situation. It is a tough road to deal with and it's ok to be mad and pissed off about your hair. I remember I was - I was really mad! I was 25 when it happened to me - it's weird to have your hair fall out - so my suggestion is to do on your terms - cut it short and it get some cute scarves -- wigs were crappy and itchy. You are in my prayers and thoughts. Rachel Cornwell-Doyle
ReplyDeleteIf you're going to do hats, then you've gotta really do hats. Don't be one of those headscarf cancer people. Be like one of those Cat in the Hat hat cancer people. That's a thing, right?
ReplyDeleteIf cancer has knees, I would break them.