I'm just a few short hours away from being done with chemo round one of six. To say I am grateful would be a fierce understatement.
I have to believe that this first week was particularly hard because I am just three weeks out from surgery today, and because everything was so unknown. My main side effects from the chemo have been nausea and joint pain, both of which are manageable. If things continue the way they went this week, I'm looking at two really rough days, and one not-so-fun day each round. I can do that. I think.
But the recovery from surgery has thrown me for a loop. My belly is still quite distended (I was asked again today if I am having a boy or a girl - a particularly rough question to field when you are coping with the loss of your fertility). Menopause is sneaking in and hot flashes are starting to rear their head. I feel trapped in my house and in a body that isn't mine much of the time. I am ready to be healed.
I am ready to have my life back.
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Despite my incredible support system, this has been the loneliest I can remember feeling in a very long time. Nights feel incredibly long and the days stretch on. Again - I have to believe as I heal more from surgery and can get out more this will change. But to go from being active and healthy to trapped in a destroyed body is a bit much. Its hard. Its too much sometimes.
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Today I started work with a medical intuitive thanks to my very sweet cousin. I am so excited to add this work to my healing. I really believe it will heal not only my body, but my soul. Just talking to him today eased my heart in ways I haven't felt in weeks. It was amazing.
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I am learning to give myself permission to be angry about all of this. So many people have pointed out how unfair this whole thing seems to be. I already went through chemo. I have taken so many steps to heal and be healthier in the last few years. Why should this fight have fallen on me? Why now? I'd be lying if I said I didn't think it isn't fair at least once a day. I wonder why it had to happen. I wonder if I have the strength to do this again. I know I do - I know this will come to an end, and that each day is a step closer, but it feels so hard and long sometimes. And I just don't understand why I am in this place. Why everything good seems to have been stolen away.
And then I remember that not everything good has been stolen away - that I have my faith. God is here. For all the things that have fallen away in the last week, He has remained. I lay in bed at night reciting the Our Father as cramps grip my abdomen. I whisper the Glory Be as waves of nausea pass through. I find my way to my knees when I can, asking Him to stay, to heal, to bring me to the other side of this.
I feel very much like the blind man healed by Jesus. My eyes are covered in spit and mud, and now I need to trust in Him as I wander toward the river. It is only when I make my way there and wash that I can be healed. And that's not a journey made overnight. I wonder sometimes if my faith is strong enough to endure, but the last week has shown me that it may be the only thing that endures.
And I know with Him I can do this. No matter how long the battle may be.