I’ve just popped the last pills of my 5th cycle of Xeloda. My side effects continue to ebb and flow but remain manageable. Mostly, I’m still dealing with the hand and foot pain. And a stupid mouth sore that will just not go away- which I’m getting checked out today. Oh, and some serious insomnia- but I don’t know if that’s from the hysterectomy or the Xeloda. Or life.
It’s crazy to think that it’s already mid December. And that we will be moving homes in a couple of weeks- yup, we found a new place about 10 minutes from where we currently are. Our move-in date is December 29th and I’m really excited. It almost feels like a fresh start from such a crazy couple of years.
Being that it’s December, I’ve been listening to a lot of Christmas music. Shit, I’ve been listening to it since November, let’s be real here. I love the holiday season. I love the music, the decorations, the joyous spirit of it all. I continue to love it even though it has a history of being filled with loss and heartache over the years. Having to take our dad off of life support on Christmas and having my mom enter the hospital Christmas Day only to be released on hospice shortly after, the season brings me great memories but also so many difficult ones.
You know how I write notes to put together a post at a later time? Well in the 2 weeks (TWO fricken weeks) I’ve been jotting things down, two Kick Ass Cancer Mamas have passed away. It’s now their families who will have a mix of happy holiday memories and heart wrenching ones to fill the years to come. To say it isn’t fair, doesn’t even begin to express any of it. These wives, mothers, daughters, aunts, cousins… passed right in the middle of the time of year when a family should be busy celebrating and enjoying each other. Not planning for a service. But you know, it’s actually never ok for any of that… I could go on with the shittiness of it all but I’m honestly too angry.
When I was little- meaning as far back as I can remember- my biggest fear was people around me dying. I would have vivid nightmares of being the only person left on the earth trying to find someone. Anyone. It was a selfish fear. How would I go on with out those I love? How would it impact me?
Once I got diagnosed, I picked up a new fear- leaving those I love. Now both of my fears have collided, a daily reminder that both are so very real. Of course, I still like to visualize myself healthy and happy, with long, flowing silver locks- living until I’m 97 with my husband, children, grandchildren, etc… but I need everyone to understand the severity of it all. BC is not some pretty, pink, easily curable disease. Something needs to be done so that children do not have to grow up with out a parent. So that significant others actually get to grow old with the life partners they’ve committed to. So that parents do not have ‘bury’ their child.
I’m not a medical professional in a lab, trying to find the cure. Science and math have never been my jam… but a massive thank you to those who are working their butts off in the effort. So, instead of standing around and feeling helpless, I personally vow to do all I can- whether it’s financial donations or it’s through offering yoga and reiki or just being a good listener- I want to help my people and their families. During and after. We must promise to tell the little ones how amazing their mothers were. To share the beautiful and wonderful words that they once said and to remind them of the powerful things they did. They need to know how strong and loving they were because many of these children are too young to remember, which… hurts me to type.
I want so badly to turn my head and focus on me because it’s all so hard sometimes. But I just can’t. I can’t do it while I have friends who are literally dying around me. So I plan on taking more time to focus on self care (I know, I sound like a broken record) in order to stay strong so I can help others. There’s that saying- you can’t pour from an empty cup…
If you follow me on social media, you would have seen that Harlon manifested himself a Race Car Christmas tree. Even down to the Mater and Lightning McQueen ornaments on it. Because he put it out into the universe and trusted it would become. My sweet boy has reminded me of the power we hold. Let’s all manifest some good shit, for the good of others. It’s the season of giving after all.
One last reminder/plea – Please, never say someone “lost” their battle. It’s not a win/lose deal and we cannot give C that sort of victory. 💜