6/6/2008: The Dance

I have been going back and forth debating about whether or not I should write about this, but since I have been brutally honest with you to this point, I do not see why I would stop now. Something pretty astonishing has occurred in my life and I still do not know what to make of it all.

I have been swept into this dance where I am being spun in a light twirl one minute then swooped heavily grazing the floor the next. It is in this graceful, yet intense embraced that I conjure the nerve to analyze my raw emotion and find my rhythmic balance. Have I completely lost my footing? Not in the slightest. I feel as though I have already seen the steps played out in my head and I am now trying to envelope the routine to a science.

I have been reading a book called 'Pretty Is What Changes' and although my personal life and battle with cancer does not mirror Jessica's perfectly, I am able to notice some psychological similarities between her actions and mine. She and I are very similar in our drive, career, the way we wish to be perceived, even down to the relationships we find ourselves in. It is almost eerie. In reading her story, I began thinking about my own. I started analyzing the growth work in my life and how I have changed over the last five months. Is it possible to experience a lifetime of growth in five months? I don't know, but I know I have changed significantly. I have spent so much time really embracing the raw emotions I have felt instead of trying to ignore them, or just coast through this experience. I have psycho-analyzed the way I feel and how I react to certain things in order to determine what it is I am seeking internally. Do I lash out because I am angry about my cancer? Do I engage in negative conversations because I seek the normalcy I knew from before? Would I really want to go back to being the person I was previously? I'm not sure I have fully fleshed out all of these answers, but I do understand how I have changed psychologically. I am acknowledging the madness that lies there and am putting each graceful motion into its appropriate place in my dance.

I am sure I sound like I have completely lost my mind at this point, but I truly believe that I am the very best version of myself possible right now. I was always told by my mother that I would do so very much growth work in my mid-to-late twenties and little did I know that with this whirlwind dance I would do just that and so much more.

4/8/2008: Think Positive

I have been in a bit of a funk the last few days and I am not a hundred percent sure why. I had a great appointment with my oncologist Dr. Heyer on Friday. This weekend I attended the Cookie Lee Fundraiser in my honor hosted by Shana English, which was so much fun and just an amazing event. Additionally, some old friends and people that I care very deeply for have come back into my life, which I feel so blessed. So, I am perplexed by my own funk. It's hard to explain, but I shall try …

Anyone who knows me will tell you that my greatest fault is that I am not a patient woman. I am finding this process to be very testing. Perhaps I have been challenged with cancer and treatment in order to work on that aspect of my personality. Being halfway through treatment is a great milestone, but occasionally my mind will slip into the negative realm and I think, "Only halfway? That means I have to go through what I have already been through again." Then I quickly snap myself out of that thought process. No glass half empty for me! I have to stay in the right mind frame or this thing will suck me under.

I have always been someone who liked the way I look and my body. I never really have experienced being self conscious of my looks or went through any phase like that. I have always appreciated what God gave me, although there were times I thought bigger boobs would be nice. (I didn't want to go through all this to get them though. Be careful what you wish for.)

I had a "moment" Sunday morning that I have never experienced before. I took a shower and after drying off I stood looking at myself in the mirror. I don't love my body the way I used to and that saddens me. I hate my port more than anything. It looks like a quarter-sized zit on my chest. It just pokes out under my skin and looks disgusting. I hate my scars. I have one that is about two inches under my armpit and one that is about an inch on my chest where they inserted the port. And I guess I will have even more when I have my bilateral mastectomy in June. Makes me sad. Because I am so fatigued with chemotherapy treatments I am unable to be as active as I was before cancer, so I have put on four pounds. (I know … a whopping 103. Geez!) I don't mind the weight … I am more upset by my loss of muscle and not being as tone as I would like. And I am barely hanging on to my eyebrows and eyelashes that continue to thin. I find myself admiring people's hair a lot more than I ever used to. A lady stopped me in the Harris Teeter parking lot last week to ask me where I get my hair done. I said, "Sorry, this is a wig." I swear I will never curse a bad hair day again. Ugh … I am just annoyed!

It is hard to feel sexy and beautiful when you are going through treatment. Obviously, the most important thing is to kill the cancer. The little things that I have started to notice about my physical appearance I am aware that are things that only I notice and no one else really does. The bottom line is I need to keep remembering that all of this is just temporary and in the scheme of things this is only a couple months of my entire life. I will not let it define me or try and suck me under again.

Think positive, think positive, think positive … sometimes even I need to remind myself!