Oh, hello there! Today’s entry is a little different. Not much treatment talk, but much that has been rattling around up here. Let’s start with a random housekeeping item that has been on my mind a lot lately. I haven’t shared with anyone yet because I haven’t really sorted out mentally what I would like it to transition to, so maybe you can help! Please leave suggestions either below in the blog comments, or on my Facebook share of this entry. I am not fighting cancer. I am not a fighter, a bit of a hot head at times, yes, but I don’t see my life as a fight. It honestly kind of makes me cringe lately when I see someone refer to this journey as my rough battle, fight against cancer or fighting for my life. Some days I feel like I am fighting for control of my thoughts, but “fighting” has a negative connotation to me. (Fighting, in the negative sense, cancels out the negative thought, double negative. Boom.) I guess you could probably argue that cancer also is pretty damn negative and apply my double negative theory here…but…don’t, because it blows that cute little thought on the fly coping mechanism to shreds, and this is my blog and I make the rules. I have a friend has gone through so many treatments for cancers and other body issues, and she also never really connected to fighting and I feel that the power in choosing your verbiage has a huge impact. If you were to talk to this gal, you would no doubt agree. So. I am not a fighter. She uses the word thrive. She is thriving with cancer, but I honestly don’t know if that fits me and this chapter of my life either. I am a peaceful little hippy soul that is healing with modern western medicine and a kick ass health care team that is doing most of the work. With a dash of ancient, metaphysical, holistic, and natural healing. Hippy shit. That is me. I am not only on a path of healing this dark bump in my families story, but I am also healing old wounds and traumas to clear and heal my mind and mind’s eye and give it the very best advantage to use every bit of energy healing on my body. I plan on spreading my hippy cheer far, wide, and for a long time, so I have been utilizing many different practices to do so since I started this round of chemo. An act that filled my life for many years before getting caught up in the anxieties of motherhood. (Getting Allen and my niece Harper super into crystals, minerals, and other cool rocks/stones is an incredible bonus that I did not see coming, but fills my heart to the brim.) So maybe I am just healing? I do like that. I am healing cancer, my mind, and my soul and spirits. Thanks for your help! Please feel free to express your suggestions still!
Chemo, treatment, and symptoms have all been very good. Small bumps here and there…but hey. I’m healing my cancer so it can’t all be roses. I really have nothing new to add there. Headaches, fatigue, things like that are still around after about three days after my infusions but fade off relatively well. My mentality and micro-fixation on what could be a symptom has gone down considerably from being comfortable with my care now and relieved anxieties that came with it.
My family has been awesome and doing very well. Nate and I have been getting in quite a bit of bow hunting in and that has been incredibly healing for both of us. Tommy still has a little trouble letting us leave, but his Nana has been great about hosting suppers on the nights we leave them so his cousins and my brother and sister are usually there to soften the blow. We started taking off before they go to bed in hopes of making it easier for them to understand that we are going back to the doctor and will not be there when they wake up. This stems from every time we left last spring, we would take off while they were in bed or before they would wake up. Either situation they, especially Tommy, would expect to see us in the morning and be confused/sad as to why we’re just gone. I think it is helping with the separation, from what Nate and I see anyway. Nana might have a different narrative that she keeps from me for a little more mental freedom while I am away. I appreciate all the little things she has been doing for us like that. The thought is still there that we could be scarring their little memories by taking off so often, my only hope is that they look at these little vacations from mom and dad as a blessing in time with their grandparents. I definitely do, and I know the time spent with them is pretty cherished by my family. And I cherish them for time spent molding my little minds for me.
I have been avoiding this next part. I don’t think I am ashamed that I have been, but the emotion is possibly related. Small surges of guilt for wanting to even touch on the topic have been haunting me, but I have wanted to speak on it for the past two weeks and have felt very compelled. I knew it would hurt. In February, two days after I was sent to Omaha for initial visits, I reached out to an old friend whom I heard also had just been diagnosed with colon cancer. She was three grades behind me in high school and our families were intertwined through childhood like many kids growing up around a rural town. Alicia was incredibly strong and every time we talked since our diagnoses, she was always upbeat and always had some valuable information for me. When she went in for stomach pains, she found quite a bit of cancer in many places in her abdomen. I don’t have all the details from her, because I know the exact feeling of having to fill in a hundred people with the same medical information over and over, so I never asked her. I wanted our time speaking to be mostly friendly conversations and how are you’s, not another reminder of how quickly you get to know medical terms and procedures. She walked me through going to the small hospital that is quite comparable to the hospital system near my home now, then going to Mayo in Rochester. I had a wave of relief knowing she was getting to go to one of the top health centers in the states since what I heard of her situation was scary. She gave me the good and bad of what she was experiencing, and what to expect if I were to have to do a similar chemo as her, but never made it seem like they were or sharing with me was a burden on her. Alicia passed away nearly three weeks ago leaving behind her husband of four years and the most adorable little guy around Allen’s age on Earth with us. Along with her parents and brothers, they had to say goodbye to an incredible young woman before she reached 30. When someone passes you hear about how amazing a person was in life, and everyone just loved them, and they just lit up a room. That may be the case for some or most of them, but Alicia was a treasure that just radiated love everywhere she went and was the epitome of those sentiments. She was seriously one of the very best people I knew and was a constant reminder to be kind, that never wavered. We cheered together my senior year and we had PE together that year. I am saddened now by the thought that it took us that long to get as close as we did before timing and life took over and we went separate ways. I am always ragging on social media and the not so great influences it has on our daily lives, but it allowed me to check in on her life, see her wedding from a far, watch her raise her son and see her smile reach so many. For that I am thankful and reminded to reach out before it is too late. Not a moment has gone by in the time since she passed that I haven’t thought of the laughter at silly jokes, smile, and light spewing out of her. I know she has to be incredibly busy if she feels compelled to check in on all those sending out messages to her, because to know Alicia was to love her. Some believe we choose our traumas and lessons before traveling to Earth to be born, though I am not versed in her traumas or pains, it only makes sense that a person with such a grasp on what life was about and practicing it would leave us so soon. I never knew Alicia to judge, gossip (too much- remember we were in HS together,) or belittle a single person. My condolences and love is constantly being sent to her family, so Kenny, Cindy, Devin, Trent, and Danny- if this happens to come across your screen, please know I am thinking about you and I am here for absolutely anything I can do for you. You raised an absolutely amazing woman and I know that my life was brighter for knowing her. I am practicing giving more of my love and kindness to everyone I come into contact with in her memory. She is everywhere and impacting lives forever. Thank you, Alicia, for sharing yourself with all of us. I am ever grateful for your presence and knowledge far beyond your years.
Sending love and light,
XOJO
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