Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Celebrating 10 Years With A Nap... Chemo, You Suck


WOWZA BOWZA!  So FIG-Lancaster has asked me to tell my story.  The following is a blog that was featured on FIG.  I am so incredibly honored and humbled to be a part of their community so be sure to stop by and take a look, especially if you are looking for something to do in Lancaster,  they are like Big Brother...they know EVERYTHING!

This past weekend was my 10 year wedding anniversary.  My husband and I have spent the last 3 to 4 years going back and forth about whether we would spend a long weekend sipping cocktails on the beaches of St. Lucia or exploring the islands in the Florida Keys.  The location was a continued debate, the way we would celebrate was not. We would wake up late, we would spend long lazy days with our toes in the sand and a cocktail in hand and we would not check our emails, we would not make dinner reservations.  It would be a lazy man’s nirvana and the absolute perfect way to celebrate the last decade of our life together.

The morning of our anniversary, I woke up 2 days off of my latest chemo treatment.  I was tired, REALLY freakin tired.  I rolled over and woke my sweet husband with a grumbled request for my morning stomach injection and flopped a pillow over my head to check my Instagram feed as he gave me my shot and went downstairs to retrieve coffee.  My husband spent the day in NYC at a conference and I spent the day, at work, refusing to even acknowledge this monumental achievement.

You see 3 months ago, I was diagnosed with stage III colon cancer and our life, my life, took a drastic left turn.  As a self-diagnosed Type A control freak, this took some serious re-grouping, but I am a control freak, so I regrouped.  Seven weeks to the day of my own diagnosis, my baby sister was diagnosed with cancer. My life shattered and my heart broke into a million pieces. 

However, I am a mom.  I am a wife.  I am an Interior Designer (one of the lucky ones that LOVES her job).  I realized that now I just have to add the *cancer fighting _______ before each of my identities.   I do not however have to let it become its own identity. So for the most part, I spend all of my energy being a mom, and a wife, and a designer and when cancer pops into my life a ruins my day, I would love to say I handle it with grace but I do not.  I pout, I throw tantrums, sometimes I yell curse words in the back yard just loud enough to make my neighbors think I have developed a case of Tourette’s.

I did not handle missing my anniversary celebration with grace.  I handled it with the charisma of my 4 year old being told that Doritos would no longer be sold in the Unites States (this would be a travesty in our household).  I mean I was not being unreasonable, I would have compromised.  My husband and I talked about getting a babysitter and simply spending a late summer night hitting all of our favorite stops in town; Pickle fries at Fenz, coffee cured filet at Checkers, that AH-MAZ-ING bacon slab at the Penn Square Grill.  When the convention in NYC came up we decided to make that an anniversary trip and fit in a 2 day binge of yummy food and too many beers and maybe even a show.

In the end, I worked and then I slept, oh and I pouted. You see 3 days off of chemo, my tongue and mouth are numb and food tastes like a mouse burger and spam sandwich.  I can’t eat drink or touch anything colder than room temperature (and don’t get me started on my thoughts on warm beer).  So I pouted.

Today I got coffee at Starbucks and watched my daughter gymnastics class, I traded feeding tube feedings for stomach injections with my sister and I sat in the sunshine and read a book. It’s a new day, tomorrow I am going to go for a run, Monday I am hoping to hit yoga.   In February,  when I have kicked cancer square in the ASS,  I am getting a babysitter and taking my husband to the Keys or an Island,  actually as long as it’s hot and sandy and the drinks are cold,  I don’t give a damn where we end up.

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