Take my medicine.
That’s what they keep telling me to do. The doctors and researchers keep coming up with new and different ways to cure us for all kinds of terrible illnesses. I think I probably have 12 different prescriptions lined up on my bathroom counter and then some more in the kitchen, all waiting for the perfect time of day, or for the alarm to go off to remind me to take them. I even have some more in the baggie in my purse in case I am not at home at the right time.
This last round of chemo was by far the very worst. Of course, I only have three to go on so that sounds like an odd comparison, but nonetheless, it’s the truth. I went on Wednesday and by Saturday I was DOWN. I mean in the bed the rest of the weekend. It was possibly the worst feeling in the world, and I can finally relate to what I was NOT feeling before now. The shower became a mortal enemy, and I am not sure if there were more tears or water going down the drain at the end.
I asked my girls to call for help, and they seemed to feel as if they could handle it. I was an emotional and physical wreck. Nothing was getting accomplished, and the lines were beginning to blur between mother and daughters. Then came Monday morning.
I knew I had to go into work no matter what, because I am out of vacation and sick days. My oldest Brown Eyed Girl had to drive me in, and there I sat. Finally, at the end of the day, I was able to come home and rest! Then it was time to learn my lesson about taking my REAL medicine.
Brown Eyes One and Two got home from their jobs early. On the way they had stopped for mini-containers of ice cream. When they got in, they brought me mine and one for Three, and we sat and ate. We talked. We talked about really stupid things and really important things. We laughed really hard and talked some more. I learned about a few things that I had missed while in my “chemo fog” and just some things that were fun about my girls.
I didn’t need to go to bed early or take any pills- I just needed them.
They knew. Somehow, they knew just what I needed. I needed the medicine that only they could give me. It will not leave me with a “hangover”, but hopefully it will leave me addicted. I hope they know how much it meant to me and how much I love them. I am energized, feeling no pain, and ready to face the world tomorrow! How many other people are so lucky?
Monday, June 23, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
My Alter-Ego
I AM SuperWoman, or so it seems. When my honey left the last time I shattered and we had a hard time when he got back. When he found out he had to go again this time we were both afraid. Not just for the war and all that entails, but for US. The emotional drama that separation brings is enough to drive anyone apart. Very few of the couples in his unit are still together from the last deployment, and we are holding on. I made my list of things to keep me busy, got my army of friends for support and prepared my heart. This time we made all kinds of rules, codewords, and tried to think of every scenario in advance. ALMOST every scenario.
So it was time for him to go. There is a story about a wife that saves up all her tears in a jar that he likes to tell me. He laughs and says that although our home is large, we might need to dig out a pool to hold them the way I cry at his departures. He does not even get to see the ones that I shed at night! Good thing I guess...
I started on my list of things to do, one at a time. Fix up the house, keep up with school...the BAM! CANCER???? Suddenly, everything was upside down. Now I was scared for him, I was scared for me. He was scared for me, he was scared for him. We were BOTH at war and needed each other's strength. But something else happened as well. All the things that I have been putting off began to come about. As I had sat there and mourned the departure of my love, I had become very good at letting things wait "one more day." Now I didn't do that.
I called my father who I had refused to speak to for years. He cried and called my siblings, who I also never made time for. Now he usually takes me to my chemo appointments, and he gets to see his grandchildren, which he never would have. He helps me with my house, and his new wife is getting to know me-and I am letting her. I am learning to forgive.
As tired as I am, some business partners came forward and said that the time was now to start a new adventure, and that they wanted to work around my doctor visits, and that I was the one that they needed to make it successful. As it stands now, I am out of sick days, vacation days, overtime, and any other days....It was truly a well-timed plan. I will have to work hard, but I know it's the right thing.
Another business partner offered me a contract to design on MY OWN TIME....they are willing to wait. UNHEARD OF. They also want to work around my doctor visits.
I am ripping through my Master's degree as fast as possible in order to get it done, but as I work, I look up and see my daughter at times. My youngest has these HUGE brown eyes. I know it's time to put down the books and sketches and ask her what she wants to do. She lights up like a candle. One day, while doing this, I realized that I had changed. I could not do everything, but I could do many things. I certainly could do, and was doing, more than sitting on the couch, watching TLC and filling that pool. Upon realizing this, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flutter. It was my cape. I had finally earned it. My SuperWoman cape. Maybe I am starting to get this thing figured out, and it begins with the brown eyed girl in front of me.
Go, CancerGirl, go.
So it was time for him to go. There is a story about a wife that saves up all her tears in a jar that he likes to tell me. He laughs and says that although our home is large, we might need to dig out a pool to hold them the way I cry at his departures. He does not even get to see the ones that I shed at night! Good thing I guess...
I started on my list of things to do, one at a time. Fix up the house, keep up with school...the BAM! CANCER???? Suddenly, everything was upside down. Now I was scared for him, I was scared for me. He was scared for me, he was scared for him. We were BOTH at war and needed each other's strength. But something else happened as well. All the things that I have been putting off began to come about. As I had sat there and mourned the departure of my love, I had become very good at letting things wait "one more day." Now I didn't do that.
I called my father who I had refused to speak to for years. He cried and called my siblings, who I also never made time for. Now he usually takes me to my chemo appointments, and he gets to see his grandchildren, which he never would have. He helps me with my house, and his new wife is getting to know me-and I am letting her. I am learning to forgive.
As tired as I am, some business partners came forward and said that the time was now to start a new adventure, and that they wanted to work around my doctor visits, and that I was the one that they needed to make it successful. As it stands now, I am out of sick days, vacation days, overtime, and any other days....It was truly a well-timed plan. I will have to work hard, but I know it's the right thing.
Another business partner offered me a contract to design on MY OWN TIME....they are willing to wait. UNHEARD OF. They also want to work around my doctor visits.
I am ripping through my Master's degree as fast as possible in order to get it done, but as I work, I look up and see my daughter at times. My youngest has these HUGE brown eyes. I know it's time to put down the books and sketches and ask her what she wants to do. She lights up like a candle. One day, while doing this, I realized that I had changed. I could not do everything, but I could do many things. I certainly could do, and was doing, more than sitting on the couch, watching TLC and filling that pool. Upon realizing this, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flutter. It was my cape. I had finally earned it. My SuperWoman cape. Maybe I am starting to get this thing figured out, and it begins with the brown eyed girl in front of me.
Go, CancerGirl, go.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
The Big 4-0
Next week I will be 40. The BIG 4-0. Today was a crazy, thoughtful day. On Friday I watched my oldest one graduate from high school, we discussed her scholarships (music major- oh I am SO proud) and I had a series of "Mom" moments.
"Mom" moments. You know what they are. They are the lovely feelings pride and sadness that come over you when you see your beautiful child do something wonderful that you have taught them to do, and they actually do it without your help. My 18-year old girl, standing there, getting handed her diploma in front of hundreds of people caused this. It started when I looked in the program and saw all of her accomplishments. All "A"'s all year. Presidential Award. Governer's Award.....on and on. Then it was finally her turn to be up there, and it was all I could do to stop myself from leaping over the crowd and screaming, "Wait! I'M not ready!" What was she doing growing up on me like this?
Then she saw me. She found me somehow in that crowd, and I knew it would be okay. My girl was still my girl, but she was a woman. She was probably the most grown up young lady out there in that sea of hundreds of light blue gowns. Her dad was at war for the third time, her mom with cancer, both grandmothers had cancer and one not surviving it....this girl was a fighter. She must have felt the "moment" coming on, because she winked and smiled. Yeah, she's ready.
I guess being 40 is going to mean nothing compared to this. Being 40 means that I have two more daughters that will someday be "ready" to face things. They will need me, but no more than I need them. We are a unit, the four of us. Maybe that's what the "4" in 40 stands for. Ten times the average.
"Mom" moments. You know what they are. They are the lovely feelings pride and sadness that come over you when you see your beautiful child do something wonderful that you have taught them to do, and they actually do it without your help. My 18-year old girl, standing there, getting handed her diploma in front of hundreds of people caused this. It started when I looked in the program and saw all of her accomplishments. All "A"'s all year. Presidential Award. Governer's Award.....on and on. Then it was finally her turn to be up there, and it was all I could do to stop myself from leaping over the crowd and screaming, "Wait! I'M not ready!" What was she doing growing up on me like this?
Then she saw me. She found me somehow in that crowd, and I knew it would be okay. My girl was still my girl, but she was a woman. She was probably the most grown up young lady out there in that sea of hundreds of light blue gowns. Her dad was at war for the third time, her mom with cancer, both grandmothers had cancer and one not surviving it....this girl was a fighter. She must have felt the "moment" coming on, because she winked and smiled. Yeah, she's ready.
I guess being 40 is going to mean nothing compared to this. Being 40 means that I have two more daughters that will someday be "ready" to face things. They will need me, but no more than I need them. We are a unit, the four of us. Maybe that's what the "4" in 40 stands for. Ten times the average.
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