Low Key

I have celebrated big all along this journey. Hokey day just because I felt good. Trip to the beach when I finished the first round of chemo. A long trip to the beach when I completed Chemo all together. I was thrown a party just before I had a double mastectomy. 

Now here I am at the end of radiation. Done this intital leg of cancer. And I cannot think of any better way to celebrate than with my favorite two humans at our favorite restaurant. So low key it is. 

 Cancer will not defined me, but it won’t ever leave me alone. I will have more frequent doctors appointments then I did before. I will begin medication in two weeks that I will likely take the rest of my life. Some of my chemo side effects will be with me always. Those are just the realities. Cancer is a journey you don’t come back from the same. You don’t get to the end and move forward as if nothing happens. You and those closest to you, those that haven’t left your side, will be forever changed.

Just remember big things, my friends! Big things are coming! So until next we meet at the workbench…keep creating, enjoy your moments and love hard.  As always thank you for stopping by and for being on this journey with me.

Big Love,

Randi

Advertisements

Tools from the Childhood Toolbox

Cancer has been a journey unlike any I have ever experienced. At least not where I was really paying attention. Cancer was not new to me. Not really. But I find myself wondering how could I have gotten some tools from my experiences as a child.

It was so cool rolling matchbox cars over Papa’s “roadmap” on his chest. I get the act of love that was for my brother and I. We were 10 and 7. He had lung cancer. He had to be exhausted. His chest had to hurt. And yet there he was loving us. There are so many questions I use I had known at 10 to ask. What I would give for one more circle bologna sandwich.

I can close my eyes and still see her laying there. She was tired. She had nothing to give and yet she watched that movie with me. Let me pray over her. Told me thank you for spending time with her. Watching her get smaller and weaker. Seeing her one last time and she didn’t know who I was. And still there are questions I wished I had known to ask at 16. Aunt Bobbie had always been there and then she wasn’t.

Nanny just always only had one breast. She always put her “pillow” in the other side. We didn’t talk about it. We didn’t have to. Cancer didn’t take her away. But there are questions I wished I had known to ask. I would have asked how she did it. How she continued on with her life like nothing had happened? How it wasn’t something she needed to talk about? How did cancer change you? Not just take your breast, but how did it change your very core?

My mini human has been given every opportunity we could throughout this journey to have fun. To do the things she has wanted within reason. I have intentionally chosen activities, small trips, “rewards” and celebrations to insure that she didn’t lose her childhood completely to cancer.

I think those are the tools I brought from my early exposure to cancer. Spend time with those you love and have fun doing it. Everyday isn’t fun. Chemotherapy was not fun. Having to change habits to not get sick was not fun. The ways to finding out the habits needed to change were not fun. A bi-lateral mastectomy and lymph node removal was not fun. Radiation is not fun. It is a scheduling nightmare. A stress that has led to shingles. An increase in the daily pain.

Just remember big things, my friends! Big things are coming! So until next we meet at the workbench…keep creating, enjoy your moments and love hard.  As always thank you for stopping by and for being on this journey with me.

Big Love,

Randi