Celebrate! You’re having Chemo!
Written Feb. 7th
Who would have thought I would rejoice at those words. Ok, maybe not rejoice. But after being told that I would most likely need it and that the only real question was if it was going to be the completely noxious one (and 6 rounds, no hair) or the simply toxic one (4 rounds, cold cap) I was beyond relieved to learn the answer today so that I can begin to move forward. I would not lose all of my hair. I would do the 4 rounds. And I would start in 2 1/2 weeks. There is a plan. And the sooner I start, the sooner I will be done. So the reality is that I never in A MILLION years thought that chemo and celebrate would be two words in the same sentence. But after taking the last two weeks to process the 99% probability that this was part of my treatment and coming to terms with its necessity in order to rid myself of this cancer, I have been able to make peace with my reality. And that brings me to today- the incredible relief of knowing the next step.
It’s amazing how frightening the unknown is. How devastating contemplating what if’s can be.
For someone like me, who likes to plan, to be in control, to stay busy and help others it has the potential to be paralyzing. But as Covid has shown us, we all have to be resilient and patient because we have never in our lifetime been down this road before. It is all unknown and uncertain, yet we have and will continue to move forward. There is a strength in all of us that we maybe never knew existed.
So between learning about mindset and positive thinking during my year-long Health and Wellness Coaching program, and then experiencing the crippling wave of the Coronavirus, I have emerged with a strange sense of acceptance concerning my current challenge. That’s not to say I’m not scared. I don’t want to be here thinking these thoughts, facing these days, but I have no choice. And so I will applaud my small personal win - to find a strength that I had cultivated without realizing. Despite the lack of control and uncertainty, I will embrace what I can control and I will be thankful for all of these silver lining moments. Lunch with friends. My puppy sleeping on my lap. My son reminding me that “Today is going to be a good day.” Slowing down to write and think and write. To taste my food and truly see my husband. To watch my girls move through their days with poise and independence.
Maybe I’m not just celebrating the slightly “easier” chemo route. Maybe I am simply celebrating my appreciation for today.