I was just reading over some old Caringbridge posts. This one was written April 10 of last year. Later this same day came the news that our friend had passed away.
Today I am battling cancer like you wouldn’t believe. I have an infusion at 1:30 this afternoon and I don’t want to go. I haven’t even gotten dressed yet because somehow that will make it real that I actually have to go to the hospital again. AGAIN…I don’t want to go. I don’t want to be there. I don’t care how many more infusions I have, I don’t care that the nurses are the absolute most caring women I’ve ever met, I don’t care that they will feed me lunch, I don’t care, I don’t care, I DON’T CARE, IDONTCARE!!
So here I am…huge burning tears streaming down my face, my big brother giving everything he has to comfort me from 600 miles away and I just want to go home. I want my mom’s couch, the sounds, the smells, the people, the crappy TV signal, the lost Apple TV remote, the food, the chaos. I want my mommy.
April 10, 2015
Up until now I always told people I wasn’t battling cancer, my doctors were, I just had to show up and do as I was told. Not anymore, not this week, not today. Today, I am battling cancer, I am battling this bitch who is doing her best to take over my world, my life, my peace. Yesterday I learned the meaning of “battling cancer” and it’s not a good one.
I had my last dose of chemotherapy March 19. I have been three weeks without any toxic chemicals being injected through the port in my chest…I feel great.
Today though, I have to return to the oncologist, next week we begin round two of toxic chemicals; and the mere thought of it is nearly crippling. I don’t want to go to Bemidji, I don’t want to go back to infusion, I don’t want to get constipation, nausea, vomiting, fatigue. I just don’t. But I will.
The only reason I will is because I have many more birthdays spent throwing a football with my kids for so long we forget to eat the birthday cake they had “Happy Birthday Mom” written on, I have so many more vacations with my sister and her kids, I have so many more nights to sleep on the couch at my parent’s house, I have so many more ‘arguments’ with Ashlynn about whether or not we are going to Skype while we are apart, I have so many more things to do…and if I don’t battle against this, I won’t get to.
If I don’t battle, Dorothy wins. I’m not going to let that happen. I know what has to be done and I will do it, I just don’t want to. The struggle is real. It is doing its best to eat away my peace. If I don’t battle then Lindsay has to remember what we did and didn’t talk about during planning my funeral and final wishes…and she struggled as much as I did just to HAVE the conversation. If I don’t battle my mom has to remember my name while writing the funeral announcement cards…or put up with the questioning glances as the funeral cards are handed out with Lindsay’s name scribbled out and my name hastily written underneath. If I don’t battle, I don’t get to see the look of disgust on Shawn’s face when he sees me in the wig. If I don’t battle, I don’t get to be a part of how the story ends. I don’t get to see my kids become the awesomeness they are destined for.
So today, I am battling cancer. I am fighting the good fight. I may be kicking and screaming and pouting…but I’m still fighting.
So today…one year later…I am kicking and screaming again. I might even be wishing somebody could just take the bullet for me JUST THIS ONE TIME. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted more than right now a break.
In less than an hour I will go. I will have my port accessed, I will be filled with medication that is meant to save my life, and I will continue on my way.
Because that’s my job. My only job. God has given me this opportunity. It’s up to me to make the most of it. Nobody said it would be easy.