It’s hard for me to wrap my head around everything that goes along with cancer and its treatment. I only can describe it as running up and down hills, valleys, mountains, and dips. But I’m done now, right? I’m cancer free now, so I should be at the top of the mountain jumping up and down. Some days I am, but then I seem to slip and fall. I have even found myself clinging onto the sheer side of the cliff by my fingernails.
The end of chemo just means I don’t have to sit in a chair and have a line hooked up to my port. Unfortunately, six months of chemo takes time to filter out of your body. It didn’t disappear a week after my last treatment. Its aftermath reminds me of a tornado. The destruction and clean up is devastating and cleaning up the mess takes a while. The end product never looks like it did before it was touched by the storm either.
For three days now, I’ve questioned if I didn’t just have chemo again. I’ll be feeling fine, talking along, working on a project, hanging out with my family laughing, and then BAM! I’m puking my guts up! There’s something more awful about vomiting now then there ever was before I got cancer. There’s a sense of anxiety over “What does this mean?” It’s almost like just getting a bug, virus or infection is no longer possible. It’s this fear that screams at me – “This can’t be good! Now what?” I then have to gain control of my mind back and calm it down a lot like you do a small child who’s scared of the dark. It’s an awful cycle, but a very real one.
Yesterday, when this struck for the second day in a row. I watched as I crawled into my dark hole. Get away from people. Avoid going to places. Don’t get sick in front of others. Don’t get sick in public. Don’t let the kids see. Yet, my son couldn’t see it, and so he forced me out. He had things to do, and I had to be there to help. Put on a smile, suck it up, and pray. We made it. I survived.
Today, the uneasiness, the yucky tummy, the fear, and all make me want to pull away. But today is a special day for a special lady. I will put on my happy face, suck it up, and pray. Life goes on and I refuse to let cancer or its aftermath win!