Ramblings of Tender Times...

I haven't paused to consider some of the real aspects of how my appearance has changed so drastically over this last year.  I have never known the shape of my own head, so I took a picture of it...it's much rounder than I thought!  Yay!!!  Note, my skin is always a bit on the unhealthy tone, no profile eyelashes when they once were naturally so very long, and no defining eyebrows--but I still have that classic flipped up nose that my hubby fell in love with many years ago.

This was an attempt to sleep in my girls bed one night, as we have tried to do that since I have regained a bit of strength.  We watch a movie on my laptop and fall asleep cuddled together tightly.  Maya and I were still awake but trying to sleep, so I took this image, but the flash made us look like we were sleeping already!  HAHA!  Never know what reality is in just a picture!

Daddy and Lydia were sitting tightly in this armchair, while Maya classically photo bombed their moment--but that was meant to be, a Daddy and his girls will always create beauty.

Just yesterday, I caught my oldest and youngest son wearing shirts for me.  Gavin's shirt says, "I wear pink for my Mom!" and Connor's says, "We all fight together."  The pink shirt was a fundraiser for me from my Aunt Marla early on in my battle.

Here we have Aiden making a goofy face, and that's just the nature of my dear son--always making me smile!

Then in life, we catch the most tender of moments...sweet Maya loving her little brother....

And then sweet Lydia, giddy with the precious naked baby on her lap.  She has learned already that life is so much more complete with a beautiful baby in your arms.

Pausing to Recognize Some of My Angels...Only Some

This is my beautiful twin sister--a woman who has loved me through thick and thin, sorrow and joy, and sickness and health. I feel that we are one in thought, experience, and sorrow.  I have seen more beauty and pain surround her in the last nine months of our lives--and I totally feel that it is quite unfair.  Why would she be called to suffer so intensely when this is my battle to walk?  Yet, we are twins--two individuals that came from one fertilized egg which miraculously split into two identical and beautiful people who have an unspoken bond of loyalty that we can't put into words for anyone.

Here is out little boogie, sporting his shorts on his head, per Lydia's request....

I must add, Boogie loved it even more than I thought he would!  This little one has such similar characteristics to all of his brothers!  When he is giving us a serious face, with much intention mind you, he bears a resemblance to Connor.  It is hilarious to see us being goofy and trying to get a grin out of him while he stares at us with eyes that seem to look straight through us, tries with all his might to withhold a smile, then turns his face away as he looks to be rolling his eyes, but instead he gives a long and intentional blink.  I can almost hear him saying, "You think you're funny, HA, if you only knew how dorky you are!"

He does the same little sniffle breathing through a wrinkled nose that Aiden did when he was a wee one.  When Gavin is focusing on getting something, or has been influenced by us to start the breathing game, his nose wrinkles up, his eyes squint, his closed mouth puckers just slightly and he breathes loudly and quickly through his nose; it's the ongoing joke in our family, to watch, hear, and play along with his monkey like expressions!

Gavin came out looking a lot like Shane, and the love he has towards Steve and me is so close, yet expressed differently to the love Shane has towards us.  He adores being with Daddy, and now, as I'm recovering a bit and having more energy to be a huge part of his life still, he has loved me unconditionally.  On Sunday morning, I woke with him at 5:15 am.  I was shocked that he wouldn't go back to sleep, but instead of acting angry or annoyed, I smiled at him and we quietly made our way to a sleep like living room.  After 2 hours of play and breakfast, he came to me as I laid on the living room couch crashing.  He fussed a bit and then put his head onto my breast as we laid together and immediately fell into a tender and deep sleep.  Oh, it felt like heaven--I will never forget my baby falling onto my body and sleeping with me in an instant for several hours.  THAT, my dearest friends, is the fruit which comes from loving your children and raising them in faith and charity.

These are my very tired mama eyes when Gavin attempts to wake me and I attempt to get him back to sleep, even if it beside me.  I always end up struggling to keep him on the bed as he crawls from one place to the next.  My attempts for sleep tend to fail, but my bond with him always grows--mama's, remember this wisdom; what you do today will exponentially become what you will have as your children face real life.  I desire honesty, faith, hope, lots of love, time spent together, laughing, forgiveness, and communication to be had between me and the kids....and that is why I give them all of the above every day.


Today (Saturday, August 5th, 2017), Lydia was on cloud nine as she was allowed to carry Gavin to the room after his bath.  Gavin will still lay in the cradle position after his bath, and today was no different than the rest.  Lydia began to sway as she held him, reluctant to give him up.  She then stated, "I love this!  This is the most precious thing in the world!  I don't want to put him down!"  I let her sway with him a bit longer and then after he was lathered in lotion, about ready to get his pajamas and diaper on, Lydia stated, "Mom, can I hold him real quick one more time?"  I responded, "Of course!" and then watched her cradle a naked little boy in her arms!  She stated that, "This is the best!"  My heart was about to burst with love towards her, and the beautiful mother I told her she will one day be!  She glowed with a smile of honor, and her rosy, flattered cheeks spoke all the happiness a young girl can have!  Lydia taught Gavin to drink from a straw this week after Daddy sought to teach him these abilities for weeks lately!  The joys these girls have with a baby in the home gives me the greatest sense of gratitude that he came to us so late in my child bearing years--for me at least.  Last night (Sunday, August 6th), Lydia stated that she had a dream that I had another baby while Gavin was still little.  She said it was the best thing to watch--Gavin having a little friend and us having a new child in the home.  Gosh, I cannot say how much it gave me the desire to push all the cancer treatments aside to see if I regain my fertility and can have another baby.  Yet, my cancer is driven by my sex hormones, and it may mean death for me if we even attempted that route. :-(

Watching these girls take on the motherly characteristics of embracing a baby is one of the most beautiful relationships I have ever seen.  I have watched brothers love little siblings, and as they have gotten' older it is still absolutely charming, but girls give you a brand new perspective of their innate ability to love and nourish human beings.  Maya, the little mother which she is, has so much hope that Gavin will daily allow her to hold him and love him like a sweet infant.  His busy days prevent the close cuddling, but she plays along by giving him shoulder rides and spinning him around--activities that make my heart race yet place a smile on my face!

As a break to this cancer story I am bound to continue, it was good to focus on these lovely memories over the last little while.  I love my dear family so much!

The Beginning

(Me, just weeks before my biopsy on 10-19-2016--snap chatting...AKA, having fun.)

Tonight, I started a series called "Chasing Life".  It's about a young woman who finds out she has cancer and is struggling to come to terms with the initial shock factor and how to tell her family.

I've been struggling to write all of the events which lead me to this very event as well.  Finalizing it in writing seems to be one of the best ways for me to accept it so I can move on.

Today, I have been living with cancer for an innumerable amount of days--no one can tell me when it began.  Today, however, I have known for a solid fact that I have cancer for 281 days.

On October 19, 2016, I was scheduled to have a biopsy of the lump that was found in my breast.  The biopsy was very early in the morning, and the only people I had informed about it at the time was my husband, my three sisters, and my mother in law.  One would question why my mother wasn't informed at the time.  The answer is simple.  As the main character in "Chasing Life" mentions, "I didn't want to worry Mom more than I had to at the time."

Most of us feel a small sense of invincibility when we are going in for a biopsy.  I had never, even once, considered that all of my fears about having cancer would eventually come to an ironic climax.

Over the next series of blog posts, I will write in full about the events, feelings, and shocking realities I have had to experience over the last 281 days.  I will make the account as accurate as I can recall--I only say that because "chemo brain" has played some damaging games with my poor brain.  However, my "long term" memory is clear as day, and I consider everything up to my initiation with chemotherapy to be long term.  If I dwell on those days and weeks prior to starting treatment for too long, the grieving comes back to haunt me, but for the sake of remembering and telling my story, I will face it all again.

Here's to not wanting to scare Mom, and to facing the reality that I had to scare her one day....but what day would I be able to do it?  Here's to countless days without sleep as tears drenched my pillow.

Here's to knowing your life is in jeopardy.
With deepest love and regards,

Crys

October 16, 2016--happy to be at the end of a pregnancy so I can "feel better".  I kid you nor, I could hardly breath as I walked through this pregnancy--it was awful, but I was still so oblivious to my inevitable pain.

Daddy on October 16, 2016--living life with a fun grin and hard work. Little did he know, the work load would just get harder as he would become my only caregiver day after day after day for the last 281 days.  Poor guy could have used a lot of help.   

Losing More Than Hair

I've hardly been able to pull my self out of bed today.  I can say that for most days, but lately things have felt like they have become too unbearable to live thorough.  Aside from feeling like I can hardly function because I'm always so tired, I found myself in a position where I could have almost predicted this last week, by dream alone.

We all have some kind of dreams, whether we recall them or not.  Sometimes they mean everything and sometime one would say they are merely the recovering of the body and brain as it recalls the events of our days.  I'd shed a light on dreams all together by saying that MY dreams are rarely about recovery, more than they are about warnings, premonitions, and even events from beyond our realm of understanding unfolding before us.

So I had a dream the other night that most of us would pass off as a fear--realistic, logical, fear.  I had lost a tooth and only mush remained behind.  That sucks, to lose an adult tooth.  Many people have these dreams right?  They most likely, by dream "experts", are foretelling of something happening in your life, that blah, blah, blah, blah, blah....

In my real life, just a day later, I lost an adult tooth.  And guess what was left behind--mush.  I cried, of course.  After living with failing health for longer than I can even recall now, I have had 6 root canals performed, most of the other teeth filled with "fillings" because of cavities, and have had to have a tooth pulled.  I lost my wisdom teeth back in the end of High School, so that left me with 24 teeth to care for since.  If I can get to a dentist, because we are dead broke and failing at even paying our freaking bills, I will be left with 22 teeth--with even more in need of being pulled by now.  I suck at caring for what I've been given, obviously.

I have cared for my teeth much better than some, have been ridiculed by dentists for having not cared for them well, and have cried tears of unwelcome shame for being misunderstood.  Non of these physicians knew that my body took a turn for the worse with one health ailment after another when the worst part of my teeth issues began.

So, I'm at the point of feeling severe pain when I eat because my other teeth are falling apart as well.  By now, I HATE FOOD, and ironically it is what I need to get better.  I simply don't want it though, especially with our current situation.

I went to the pharmacy today.  I sat alone, with strangers glancing and looking away quickly.  That's the story of my life.  I almost grew to hate how society just allows each other to suffer by being ignorant.  I felt like my world was crumbling as I waited for more crappy medications that I pay way too much for every month.  I felt alone in a world of selfishness.  Everyone was about their own tasks, for their own good, looking their best while doing it, and I sat in sweat pants, a baggy shirt, bald as crap, stinky, and crying.  Each tear that fell was almost like an invisibility cloak was placed over me again and again, so as to not show the world that I needed comfort.  Then I looked at my watch--it read 3:07--the time my son in heaven was born.  Maybe you have to know life and death to understand me now, because the only seat that wasn't empty in my row of chairs was mine.  Then it hit me, he was sitting right beside me--because when no one would offer mercy to a woman grieving in a pharmacy, he was there.

Life still feels ugly and worthless today--it's the nature of the beast.

I don't want to do radiation therapy.  It's supposed to start soon.  I just want to end this suffering.  I am far from being healed, especially in spirit.  I don't see how I can be right and whole right now with how I feel.  The children have hardly seen me today.  I feel like a failure.

Who ever said having cancer while having 5 children dependant on your care was even possible?  I guess God did. I'm doubting His rational.

I feel so alone....

To the broken hearts and bodies out there today, I feel you..
Crys

Kill Me Please...

The most embarrassing thing happened the other night.

I've been vomiting post chemo but this came out of no where, and it seemed like there was no reception for compassion in this home by anyone awake at the time, at least.

While I was laying in bed, already asleep for the evening, I felt a warm fluid substance under me.  Yep...you guessed it, either by pee or poo, I had an accident.

The last thing an adult wants to tell another adult is that, "I just soiled the bed."  My case had me in a position where I had to speak up because the baby was going nuts already.  So, I told my husband who seemed annoyed that I just woke him from his slumber on the living room couch.

The good thing--my pajamas and underwear caught the mess before it was too much, and the bed was saved.  The sad thing--all I heard from the mouth of my husband was, "It stinks in here."

Thanks hun.  In a moment I kinda' needed a moral boost, I heard that I make the house stink.

I seriously would rather be dead today.

Cancer sucks, and it steals all the energy out of everyone so that a support system doesn't even exist in the end.  And once you're there, without support, you would do just about anything to have your support system feel what a day feels like in your life so they would have compassion still.

Ya, some days, I think I'm just the female version of Job, asking God why he hates me so much.  I'm sorry God, but I have tried and witnessed Your name all my days.  This is not right.

Sorry for the blunt negativity--I'm just finding that once your last chemo is done, and by done I mean, the IV infuser is beeping because the bag is empty, the world seems to think you are better.  Hell, I feel like slaughtered meat that still needs to go through the grinder.

Farewell for tonight.

Your fellow sufferer,
Crys

Recovering and Surrendering

All I really want to do tonight is share stories about the most recent birthdays in our house, including the birth of our sweet 6th child back in October, but I am haunted by this thing that happens once chemo builds up in my body round after round after round.

This morning, I woke in extreme pain.  Walking on my feet felt like the biggest burden I've been given, so I was extremely grateful my husband had a day off and was able to tend to the children while I slept in a bit.  Honestly, I will give the children the highest credit to sleeping in because most days they willingly take Gavin in the morning so I can sleep in.  Today, sweet Aiden took over Gavin's care so that Daddy, too, could rest a bit.  Once I was up and wobbling, Lydia asked if today would be a good day for doing exercise videos, and I sadly had to let her down by telling her how much pain I was in.  Her response was well deserved, as she stated in frustration, "you always are like that," and that, my friends, is sadly true.  Some days, I wonder if I will be able to make it through this life in so much physical pain, but I'm trying to take it one day at a time so that I can truly live in the moment.

Then.....food came.  After this last round of the red devil, as it has had 3 months to build it's levels and toxicity to fester in my body, I have learned some techniques to getting food in me.  Then there are days, like the last two, when swallowing hurts so bad that I indulge in one bite of my meal and have to call it quits.  The sores in my throat are raw, and I'd rather starve than feel them.  At about the same time each night, I have to run through the house to the bathroom because the wee bit of food and fluids are churning in my tummy  and begging to come out.  Luckily, the toilet gets most of the projected contents of my tummy.  At times, I am heaving so violently that the wall behind the toilet gets a covering of the nasty mess.  I just finished wiping the wall, toilet, and floor off from my outburst, and as I came out of the bathroom Aiden says, "I heard it....", and I'm thinking, "That's almost worse than 'I did it' when it comes to vomiting!"

Last night, I had the grand idea of having a movie night with my sweet daughters.  They share a bed right now, and if all three of us are positioned just right, we are able to sleep side by side and enjoy the warmth and cuddles from each other.  It was one of the most wonderful things to lay in bed with them, have their sweet heads resting gently on my body while we all watched a movie on my laptop.  They told me moment by moment, "thank you for doing this with us Mommy...I love you so much!"  Since being diagnosed and treated for cancer, I have found that the trial in and of itself can be very hard to hand over to God.  People make it sound like it was an easy task to move from a type A personality to a very laid back, non labeled personality who simply lives in the moment, loving life.  While it isn't easy, by any means at all, I do believe that it is a choice as well as a natural response to having your mortality stripped from you.

Something very hard to describe has happened to me.  I will attempt to make sense of it.  I cried every day of the last 9 months until recently.  As the storms have calmed, I have attempted to simply allow myself to breath in and out, enjoying the sound and feeling of each breath.  I have found the purest joy in sitting with my children and feeling their little feet against me.  Honestly, I have even asked my boys to stretch out so I can feel their precious bodies, alive and well.  While I was laying in bed, trying to nap, my husband placed his hand on me yesterday, and I took it from my shoulder and wrapped it into my arms and just held it for as long as he would let me.  Having this body, that can breath, feel, and bring joy to others and myself with is the most precious gift in the world.  It may not look as beautiful and healthy as it once did, but laying in bed and having inflammatory drugs in you most of the time over the last 9 months has caused a muscle wasting effect that has left me unrecognizable to the me that has walked on this earth sine 1980.  I feel burdened by the effects of being sick, but I've also found the intense gifts that surrendering those disappointments to God can have.  In living in the moment, appreciating the joys in my life, I have found that the dark unknown begins to dissipate.  That's not to say that their isn't grief and sorrow attached to this disease and what it continues to do; my children, especially, have these awful fears of not having me with them when they are older and need advice on who to marry, or when they are getting married, having their children, and living their dreams.  The girls most often will tell me of these fears that plague them; it breaks my heart.  I, too, want to give them advice, watch them marry, have children, share themselves with this great big world, and then comfort them when their hearts break.  I have felt it necessary to tell them that even if I am not here, they will always have the privilege of having me as their guardian angel, standing by to comfort and love them.  Those are hard conversations.

I use to dwell on a scripture in the Bible when I was a teenager.  It referenced the power in taking no thought for what you will eat, drink, or do for tomorrow, for tomorrow will take care of itself, being sufficient for a day is enough.  I never really understood that when I had been coming to recognize that God must be the massive planner in life for all of His words to come to be and for this great plan to exist in the first place, with an Earth positioned perfectly to the sun so as to not burn us to death, and the symbols of the Earth to our bodies to be so perfectly tuned.  The Earth is 70% water, while our bodies are built with water and fluids taking up about 70% of it's composition.  All of the perfectly placed pieces did not sound to me like God desires us to take care of ourselves today only.  And that is true, that is not the point of that scripture.  What it truly means is that we have no power to change what yesterday was, and no ability to even know if tomorrow exists, but we have today--this very moment--to feel, love, give, laugh, touch, admire, compliment, advise, and simply exist.  The gift of being happy by existing has not been something I willingly asked for, it is a gift I have been given in the depths of tribulation when I then willingly asked for it because I felt like crud every day for way too long.  Therefore, I give all the credit to God for allowing me to find joy in every moment which teaches us what pure unconditional and true love really are.  Funny how my teen scripture pondering comes to mind as I contemplate where I am now--it is clear to me that divine intervention has always existed with me, and it does with all of you as well.  God, who advises us to live for today, every day, has planned a beautiful reception for us if we will surrender our hearts and minds to Him.

Tonight, I will live by faith that these side effects will ease.

Today, I felt joy and love with my family.  They may not have seen me glancing their way, admiring their beauty and growth, but I did.  I will do it every day that The Lord allows me to exist here, in mortal form.

That is a good way to end a hard recovery day.

What No-one Said About Death By Poison

Okay, so let's set the honesty factor to 100 and have a conversation about the horrors of being poisoned to death...

I have watched many episodes of forensic piles, seen the occasional psychological thriller, and walked away thinking, "oh, how sad.."...

Forgive me NOW, please....this isn't a sad thing, it is a down right cruel and unusual way to kill someone--especially if you allow them to linger in that state of irrationality and conflict for extended periods of time.  This is hate--ugly, deceiving, and soul deadening hate. 

Yet, to the cancer patient who has willingly signed all of the papers which clearly state that, 

"nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, intestinal cramping, peripheral neuropathy, bone and joint pain, hair loss, fatigue, weakness, heart failure, leukemia, risk for infection, and bone loss," will be a a part of giving me the consent to place this poison in your body via way of the strongest arteries that feed straight into your heart, so as to not kill the artery first, we'd say "Dang...(long awkward pause as the mind debates life and death in a matter of moments, AGAIN, because we all know that debate happened the moment you first got the distinct feeling of 'I have cancer')...well, here we go!"  Cancer patients are completely INSANE!  Mind you none of the listed side effects mentioned the more complicating counterparts of depression, anxiety, PTSD, psychosis, and the day after day and month after month tears that seem to have a mind of their own.  No one ever told me that one day it would be only me crying, and that an odd sense of "do I even belong here anymore" would settle in to haunt me as I solemnly stared at every movement the children would make without me in it--feeling as though the undertaker had already come and gone.  

Now that is a big lie.  

No one told me I would hear my own voice telling...myself, of course, how bad I lie.  And then no one told me that the lies would keep coming, and almost sound believable at times.  Does a newborn infant really need a Mommy to survive?  I've hardly touched him in days, and Daddy seems to have an innate bond with him.

Would my husband rather I die since I'm such a burden anyhow?  He's mentioned that he can't continue like this long term, but what if I am willing?  Will I eventually have to live alone just to fight for my life?

The pain never ends.

You got the best of both worlds--the very end of your 6th and hardest pregnancy plus a breast cancer diagnosis--you know what that means right?  You've done the research by now, and it's all out there, especially triple positive breast cancer....you're always gonna' be HUGE!

Those are just a few of the lies--they get deeper, and uglier. 

By that, no one ever told me that treating my cancer would effect not only my body, but my brain.  If there is anything I know, it is that the brain is the most fragile organ, for it speaks to our hearts what we think we know.  Cancer will always have one believe that they must be going ballistic, because this can't be a normal coping process, but believe me, it is.  Regardless, normal is only a bunch of abnormals hurdling together to find our most common traits, and common is not a term I would use to even compare my children.  If my own children, who came from the exact same parents, 6 times over, can be so distinct and different in personality, physical stature, and spirit, then normal doesn't exist amongst human beings.

What you may not know about dying by poison is this:

1.  When the side effects of a drug are clearly stated on your signed consent form, and then you call the on call doc at 9pm because you are hurdled over in pain, and he states, "that's not even possible," you will suddenly become the biggest beast on his list yet.

2.  When the on call physician calls you back after you hung up on him, you may answer the phone, but believe me, you can't talk.  He will eventually hear you trying to breath through snot and tears and give in to the inevitable--"Can I speak to your husband?"

3.  Hubby has your back more than ever now and it's time to get serious.  The on call "doc", which happens to be a resident, gets a load outta' hubby because this is a real life, "no one messes with my girl" situation.

4.  You are told to go to the ER every time.  No this isn't a fancy cancer center ER, it's the type that sees a bald, puking, sleep deprived, teary eyed cancer patient and says, "oh, you must've caught something from your kids."  You will look at them bewildered and numbly state, "no, I have cancer, and my children are all fine and well--thank you for inquiring."  Okay, you won't say thank you--those words won't be a part of your vocabulary anymore; you are, most certainly, a whole different being by now and shouldn't be held accountable for what these poisons are telling you.  At least she seemed stable, you'll think, to distract yourself from all the lies she told herself when she entered the room, which will make you feel all the more unstable, and before you're even treated, you will be begging to crawl back onto your own home and cry the night away instead of endure more cold and awkward situations.

5.  Taking the antidiarrheals they prescribe you will make you constipated.  But in attempt to rid your body of poison, you will continue to have the urge to rid your bowels of everything.  You will suffer the most excruciating pain--aside from labor--because the body can't simply stop trying to survive by rejecting poison.  If you can't poop it out, you may eventually begin puking it out.  Before you have even noticed it, you will have gone into mush bowels again, and you will have to make to dreadful decision of "butt or face to porcelain?"  Naturally, you will have failed at even making the decision before the results are in action, and you will find that your pants are soiled and there is an awful looking vomit on the floor in front of you--which strangely looks like fecal matter.  Then truth will reveal itself and you will find that the short moment of constipation pushed your bowels out your mouth, literally.

6.  Hubby will be dialing 9-1-1 again, because with 5 children asleep at midnight, he's not capable of leaving the house.  He will come into the bathroom while you are crawling from the weakness induced by chemo, malnourishment, and severe dehydration, and he will hear you wailing in agony for help but be unable to do anything about it.  He will see your missed vomits and declare that it is indeed "poop" coming out your mouth, and then yell at the paramedics to get here faster.  You will feel like death has to be imminent because another "10 minutes out", that you heard from the other end of the line, feels like it's just the slow lingering that happens prior to death.

7.  Hair loss will look ugly...  The hair doesn't fall out all at once.  It will actually take 1.5-2 weeks for it to start.  You will first notice it as a few extra strands that come out with brushing, and then one day, out of nowhere, you will be sitting with the children, laughing, and then naturally rub your hand through your hair, only to reveal a chunk of hair entangled in your fingers as you pull your hand away.  You will joke about it and then sneak away to the bathroom to see just how much more will fall out if you ran your fingers through it a bit more.  It will finally hit you as chunks of hair are laying in front of you on the counter sink--the first steps to losing your entire identity this year will be in action.  You will sob and lay against the counter, shower, or wall, and allow the heaving to come and go, for as long as it takes. You will not believe this quite yet, but it gets so much worse, and yes, you may lose more than your hair through this process.  Some self worth and confidence will feel lost, but try to imagine them being refined instead, pulled away for a long while in order for you to feel them stronger one day.  Also, you won't see this beautiful bald head if you're on chemotherapy long enough--which starts with Stage 3 cancer; instead, your head, in time, will turn into a blotchy mess, as though you already have aging spots all over your head.

8.  When your identity seems to be slipping away physically and mentally, you may feel like your husband isn't interested in you at all anymore.  Touch dissipates, intimacy is lost, and survival seems to be the only way to get through life.  If you are brave enough to ask if your "new" and "attractive" look is the cause, the lack of an answers will feel like an answer in and of itself.  You may then feel like you are nothing with out hair, skinny, and beauty.  That sucks.  Hopefully it's a lie, but actions are foretelling at times.  You will, therefore, feel like you are nothing without your beauty, and a whole new can of worms will be open and need working on for a long time now.

9.  There will be times early on when compassion and empathy are given to you, but after that initial shock wears off, people will stop inquiring and showing compassion.  Cling to those who do continually inquire and then relieve your burdens somehow because they are officially your guardian angels.  You will feel like you are dying, and reality says that you kinda' are--just enough to keep you hanging onto life--but you may hear words that minimize your experience from others who have no clue what cancer and chemo feel like.  In those moments you may feel abandoned by even the people who showed intense love and concern to start.  This is a huge heartbreak.

10.  The statistics you are given are probably not realistic.  Some cancer patients are told they have a 97 % chance of survival before they have even determined the stage of cancer you have--this is false hope.  Your cancer stage is critical when determining survival rate, and when you read scholarly journals you may find that the average rate of survival for advanced cancers are actually limited to 4-5 years if the treatment really worked.  in other cases, I have heard people say that their doctor said they have a 1% chance of survival when in reality they have a 50% chance.  Do your own research so you can prepare for the worst while still hoping for your miracle.

11.  Unless you ask, you will not get much help.  Now, try to be more proactive than me and ask for people to expect you not to ask for every thing you will need.  If you have children you will need countless hours of babysitting for all the appointments, scans, infusions, radiotherapy, surgery, etc.  When it comes to the house, inform someone you trust that you may want them to come on a scheduled day each week to assist with folding laundry, doing a deep cleaning of bathrooms, and even something as simple as prepping dinner would be heaven.  I haven't been proactive, and little did I know, but once you are in the thick of treatment, you will find it nearly impossible to muster up the courage to ask for help--chemo plays bad tricks on your mind, remember that.

While you will never know what it feels like to go through this horrendous process, unless you have walked it, it is wise to know what your friend or family member may be feeling so you can help them in ways that are quite simple--a visit, unexpected cleaning of the house, etc.  I really wish I had more of these experiences in my journey so far, but we are all walking different lives and my support system is burdened by their every day lives.  None of us have money, and most don't have the time to help out in the ways I need.  I pray that YOU, whoever you may be, have systems that relieves the everyday burdens from you because my burdens only increase.  It hurts so bad.

Lately, the children and I have used snapchat as a coping mechanism...enjoy our funny and adorable faces!