You see my brother has this dog. It’s a very sweet dog. However, I’ve never snuggled it because I’m allergic to dogs and cats. But, claiming it was hypoallergenic, I gave in and scratched behind her ear.
And, immediately we became friends… and I fell in love with the dog.
So, here I am, watching the dog with a gamut of kids around it. They are all scratching her belly, behind her ear and neck and her eyes get all droopy, dazed; glazed. I think she is actually smiling.
Poor dog. Has to stand there all adorable looking and the kids are magnetized by her irresistible cuteness.
And that’s where I went wrong. For a brief moment I wished that I could be a dog (minus the dog food, of course). Continue reading →
Yes. It’s true. I’ve joined the hair loss club. I’m president and I won by a landslide. (Hey when you still have bush lined parking lots for hair no one is going to elect you president. Sorry man.) Slick’s the trick.
Ok, so maybe not completely true… but balding men (and cancer groupies who have treatments that also ate their hair) I feel your pain. Yes. It’s gone. And though cancer ate my hair, no worries. The pain is only momentary.
Wow. I’ve missed you. I’ve been on a couple of months of pain and sickness that I’ve just plain taken a break from the norm. I’m not really sure what that is anymore. Anyway, I’ve only been able to keep my head above water so most other things have just dropped. So much has happened.
But enough of that… let’s talk about life and living and all it’s wonderful perks.
I’ve been hoovering at a very hard and difficult state of well being for so long. I was tired of it. Tired of being sick, not having energy, throwing up every day, and generally not feeling great all the time. I was a dilapidated kinked-up crusty chromed car on the side of the road watching the freeway of Rolls Royce’s pass me by.
But I have not been without some amazing TLC. Of course there were so many helpful cleaners, home cooked beaners, and bright beaming gleamers that stopped to assist us. There’s been random money drops, sweet calls, and texts and visiting plops. I’ve cherished and needed them all.
But, through it all, I’ve felt so useless there being serviced and not helping anyone else. Continue reading →
I only wanted one gift: hair. Chemo treatments stole my beauty markers. It ate my eyebrows, eyelashes, and hair (hungry little guy). The mirror check resulted in a search and rescue for any kind of roughage. My eyes would slip all over my face and head until it landed on my sole survivor eyelash. One eyelash on each eye.
You know, the one who never loses her hair. I wanted to keep all that hair (see picture below). One day I believe my prayers are working that I’ll be that one who never loses her hair and the next moment it goes dead (if hair could ever be called alive). It was like my plump lush flowerpot after one hot day in the sun: withering and lifeless. Just one. That’s all it took was one little chemo treatment.
“I love ‘urs’ hair Mommy. It’s cute,” my three year old said as he ran his fingers through my 1/2 inch stub of hair.
His timing could not have been more perfect. I was laying in bed after a radiation treatment chalking up everything that I’ve lost control over since I started this cancer journey: money, my 1st graders empty reading calendar, my 3 1/2 year old who was still enjoying his soggy diapers, and selling and building a new house. I was stressing about the day I go wigless in my new ward, and frustrated about my personal power cord fiasco from the chemo treatments…
I was trying to listen to the speaker at church amid an acrobatic stunt. You see, I was working on crushing my 4 year olds dreams of pursuing his talents… well, at least here on the church bench anyway.
I wasn’t even sure he was listening to the speaker because usually when the jaw’s flapping the ears are slacking. I was anticipating that the lions and bears would be arriving any time soon. Continue reading →
Kicking cancer with chemo…and an amazing support system.
One year ago today I finished my last round of chemo. I don’t miss it at all.
Hibernating taste buds, fiery hands and feet, stolen feminine identity card, constant flu-like symptoms, and commando hairstyle hardly merits any type of thank you card but the perspective I gained from cancer does.
In May of 2013 I was diagnosed with invasive ductile breast cancer with lobular features. In a nutshell, I had two types of cancer where surgery left me with a cancer finger and a fear of return. My lymph nodes also joined the cancer party. Every party has a pooper, right? Chemo and radiation were my attack dogs. I was a 34 year old mother with four boys ranging from the ages of 2-11.