The Chemo Port will not be part of Me anymore

The drug that I want to hate and yet the drug that killed the cancer, entered my body through a port. A small device placed under my skin above my chest. It is horribly unsightly as it protrudes itself with it's bump under my skin and it's all a reminder of what I endured. I have never been able to  bring myself to even glance at it quickly in a mirror. i avoid it all costs. It has been a year since I first had it put in and tomorrow I have it removed. I have this overwhelming sadness I am feeling as I write in my blog tonight. The tears are just the tears of a very scared girl and a girl who still cannot believe she experienced cancer. The reminders of the fear I hold so deeply inside me, overwhelm me everytime I get real with it all. I don't understand why. Is it post traumatic stress? I should be happy. I should be grateful-but when I think about the many months of fear that I lived with it makes me cry. I had so many surgical procedures-I guess I am just scared again. I am trying to reach down and find joy right now but these unexplanable tears keep coming. It will be beautiful to not see the reminder anymore. I will look normal there. I won't feel the discomfort of the car seatbelt as it so often created pressure on it. I can change this reaction, I know I have the power to do it...once again I pray all goes well and the surgeon does a perfect job. I will get through this and maybe now after tomorrow I will finally feel done with all of this. My heart goes out to every cancer patient in the world right now who is scared to get their port placed, but my heart also knows the day they get their port removed they will feel overwhelmed with crazy emotions just like me......Cancer just sucks, that's all there is to it! 

The Oncologists Lecture

It's blood work every 3 months. Every 3 months I go back to the infusion center to have blood drawn. I handle it the same way every time. Realize the date is here, scurry out the door running late, obviously procrastinating, and then the dreaded thought rolls through my mind as I am driving there...."ew that dreaded place again, I so hope not to see any cancer patients". It hits me every single time. They drew blood on Thursday. There is always that scary fleeting thought 'I hope all is normal" The results are immediate and all is well. I had to see Dr Wilson for a chat. A funny guy, but he sure doesn't cut me much slack. He carefully went over my records talking about my Lynch Syndrome findings from Stanford Research. So apparantly I have another area to watch out for.....my bladder. Geez, just how many more areas in my body do I have to watch out for!??Lynch syndrome patients risk uerine, colon, stomach and now bladder cancer? What the hell is this?! He handed me a urine specimen cup. So now this is being watched. It all sucks big time. Stupid idiotic cancer.He told me I was extremely lucky-stage 3 colon cancer caught early-but it may have been caught earlier thus sparing me that disgusting chemotherapy if I had DNA testing years ago and went for the colonoscopy sooner. What the hell was I thinking? I'd do anything to turn back time and not have to live with these chemo nueropathy side effects, my daily reminder I had chemo.I just can't go there. I am so good at beating the heck out of myself, and I've been mulling it over ever since Thursdays appointment. Chaulk it up as a life experience is all i can do....what the hell else is there to do? Crap, I am so angry now.

That cancer patient brought out my cancer compassion

My own Mother died of cancer, and so did my father. When my Mother was diagnosed I was only 26. She was only 49. I was so very scared. I didn't ever ask her how she felt. I found myself avoiding her at times. I couldn't bear to admit she had cancer and was dying. That's how I handled her. She died at age 50 and I was 27. I ran and stayed busy for years so not to ever feel the sadness and to not ever question why I ran from her. My father was diagnosed at age 63, I wasn't even 40. During his final months, I came around a bit more. I still was afraid of him as I always had been, but I also felt his fear, which was so different than what I felt with my Mom.. I was beginning to slightly understand what it must feel like to know you are dying. He died 2 weeks shy of my 40th birthday. I didn't carry as much guilt as with what I had with my Mom. But overall I still didn't get it because I had never had it. Then I was diagnosed. Not once but twice with cancer. It was then that I would periodically think..."My gosh I never asked my parents how they felt, how much fear were they carrying" It all became so clear that I didn't know what to ask them.This has all changed because of my diagnosis. Cancer is a cruel monster. But put me in a room with another cancer patient and I am so there. I went for a cup of coffee today  and there in line next to me was a slender woman with her black velour sweat outfit on and her baseball cap covering her bald head. I couldn't believe it. I asked her, "so are you in treatment, or done?" She answered "done, but I am waiting for post CT Scans results in a few days" "What cancer did you have?"...."Brain. In 2 places"....my heartbroken response was "That just sucks, big time"...."I had it twice also, I still have numbness in my feet and hands"...She said "I am always cold, and my short term memory is shot" Oh could I agree with that one. I asked if she had kids, and how are they all handling it. Her name was called for her order, so I clutched her arm and could only wish her the best of luck for the results. My heart ached and the overwhelming sadness and compassion took over me. ....I stepped up to place my order and began to cry. I couldn't even speak my order. I looked at the cashier and apologized. "I am a cancer survivor and just talked with that woman who is fighting for her life now, it's all so unfair, and it all just sucks". The tears wouldn't stop flowing down my cheeks. What was happening to me I thought. I only knew the deep compassion I felt for this total stranger was something I hadn't felt before having cancer myself. It was so damn, damn sad. Will I ever know if she makes it?  I won't. I didn't get her name. I will just know that I understand now. I finally have that cancer compassion. It was my gift from my own cancer. I wished I could take it all away from everybody who is diagnosed.

I played racquetball today

The sport I love. The sport so many times  I competed in, racquetball was affected by my chemo side effects. My feet were painfully numb as I ran about the court. My hand gripped the racquet harder than it's ever gripped it before. But I played 3 games. I did it!While warming up and stretching I felt the tingling sensations up to my knees and my heart sank. It felt as though I was handicapped. I had the fleeting thought of "am I done with racquetball because of damn cancer and it's disgusting chemo side effects?" I had to push through, and I did. I found myself playing a very mental game, each shot was thought out, because I couldn't run after every ball because I was scared to make a sudden turn, afraid my foot would give out. There's this feeling of sadness yet there is also a huge feeling of joy for playing the game. I can only take my journey one day at  a time. I have no other choice. I can't hang up my racquet forever, I just can't.

Cancer makes you question life forever

It is to be expected...cancer makes you question life. Your life. Your character. Your choices. It is all coming at me fast and furious these days. It is almsot too hard to deal with. I'd love to pull the covers over my head and disappear at times. I stay occupied with my voice overs. I love them. I am in nobodys way. It is me, the micropone, and the producer waiting on the other side. It is where I am at my best.
My son is done with me. It is the rite of passage.  I've dealt with it before, in different phases in his earlier life. It is very normal for a boy-but now he is becoming a young man-and he knows what he wants: he clearly doesn't want me in his life. It is a strange feeling. Not unbearable, as I can scoot along, but the transition through it, is very lonely and it is sitting in my heart everyday and screaming at me to move forward. It's an adjustment.....I need the ocean's tranquility, I can feel it very strong these days.
Out of here and off to my voice overs, I have been cranking them out all morning.....truly a love of mine!

The struggles that come with self awareness

When we begin to peel off the layers, all hell breaks lose. Think about it, it rattles everything. Every action we took for granted, every person we encounter, all our close personal relationships all get rattled along with the self discovery. It's all these continuous earthquake trembles. Then we have to walk on these newly discovered shakey grounds and try to make some sense of it all. I seem to be questioning everything these days. Will I come out alright on the other side? Will I even make it to the other side? It has to be cancer that started this journey. In the throes of it my mind was in survival mode. I didn't think about the various people that irritated me, I really couldn't care less about them. I loved that lesson more than anything in the world. Now that I am done with chemo and all it's aftermath I am left with me....the Me that can't understand Me.The whole realization of discovering my voice, and then being okay with what has been said, and then realizing admitting I am wrong doesn't have to have the aftermath of more negative consequences, is just totally foreign. The ironic part of all this is...my career is recording and sharing my voice to the world!What the hell is that about? And the ultimate joy I get when recording my voice is just so genuine and authentic. I thank God he lead me to my career of voice overs, I thank him every day. I guess the struggle is all part of the self awareness that I am needing to embrace right now, today and from this day forward. I am baffled by it all. Thank you God for my life today!

Another anniversary date

One year ago at this time, this very week,  I had my very first chemo infusion. All I can remember is crying from the moment they inserted that needle into my port. I sat and cried for 3 hours as the chemicals began their journey through my body.I still cannot wrap my mind around the fact that I had 2 cancers in one year. The amount of trauma and drama that it has caused me is just unfair. I felt at times forever grateful I was alive, and loved each and everyone of my supportive  and loving friends, and yet I think I am carrying around an anger that I had to go through with it at all. It's not where I should be, I know better, but yet I am all so confused about the event overall. Every cancer victim goes through all these emotions but what each cancer victim does with them is so unique too.
My big goal right now is that I am trying to have a voice-and I am royally screwing up using it. All the emotioanl crap gets in the way and I fall back into only what i know, and that is to trip over it all and make bigger messes. It's absolutely crazy making...I have spent 4 hours doing voice overs and absolutely loving it and yet all the while, swallowing my pride at making a 17 year old girl cry...Adam's unstable ex, or is she? girlfriend ....after me a grown woman addressed my dissatisfaction with all her actions toward Adam, at, of all places, his Senior class camping trip! What provoked me? Seeing her pouting and following Adam around the campsite. Their whole relationship mthey had seems truly insane...but you are probably thinking, as so am I, who is the insane one here? Probably me..will God forgive me? I sometimes wonder about it all. I am too mature to be tripping over this same bullshit in my life...I have to breathe deep and try again for tomorrow is a new day, and thank God I see my counselor tomorrow morning. and I am already cringing on sharing this latest chapter in my life with him....I have to. I have to grow more. God help me to really hear these words I am about to write: Thank you for my life today.