debutaunt.com

I'm Gonna Wear Glitter. On my Head

Tonight I'm going to a party. My first sort of outing with real people and real friends since my diagnosis. I need this.

I'm up too early this morning - 4:30. It's Saturday and I should have slept in. But that is what happens when you go to bed around 7:30. I passed out while watching Secondhand Lions with my mom.

*note to self* take a nap today.

I'm nervous, but really excited to see my friends. I know they all probably think I look like some whithered cancer patient - pale, dark circles under the eyes, and thin, but I'm not. I'm an amazon. Yes, I've lost some weight, but on my 5' 10 frame, it's hard to notice. I have coloring in my cheeks. I look the same, but have no hair. I feel like a warrior. I feel strong.

Cancer does not discriminate. I have seen people at the end of the line as well as newbies like me who have just begun treatment. Most are thin, weak, and look very ill, but then there are a few like me with some spark and a feisty spirit.

Yesterday I had labwork and a meeting with my PA. When I go to my appointments, I always make a point of dressing up. I fight this. I don't want to go in looking weak. Even when my counts are low, and I have to wear a mask and gloves, I always make sure I have my coolest earrings on, a fantastic blouse, my great jeans, and I try to look like I feel well, even when I don't. I even wear perfume.

Some days I think I'm a beacon of hope for people. This amazon-looking bald woman, tall and striding through the waiting room, smiling and laughing. Yesterday was one of those days. This other patient, Nick, told me that I was one sexy bald chick. That made my day. Especially because I felt like one.

I chatted with a few patients that I have met. I'm between chemo, so I feel really strong and look well. I think that if I weren't bald, you wouldn't even know I was sick.

After my diagnosis, my friends and family all rallyed. I think it was their positive energy and strength that started me on my cancer ass kicking quest. When the hemotologist came in after my very first bone marrow biopsy (at the regional hospital - not MDA), I had three of my best friends and Sis #1 in the room with me. It was like the coalition of strong, badass chicks, and I knew that it would eventually be ok. Like they formed some uber protective circle around me, and that I was safe from harm. This coven of women, the strongest I know, cast this powerful spell on me.

I try to remain badass even on the worst of days. I often wonder if this strength will dissipate in time. If I will give in to the leukemia and stop trying to be strong. I wonder if I will lose this ability like some superhero who has fallen.

As I approach my third round of chemo, I try to focus on the word round instead of 'third' or 'chemo.' Like a fighter going into a fight. I wonder if the effects of this toxic stuff will start to accumulate in my system and will make me weaker. I want to fight the weakness and side effects with everything that I have.

Right now I feel like I should be working out. Like I should be in training and lifting weights. Although I can do some exercise, I'm not allowed to overdo it and can't get the CVC bandage wet. Yet I still hear the soundtrack to my life in my head and all of it says, fight this fucking disease with every ounce of strength you have. Run like Rocky. Kick ass like Uma. Don't give in to it and fight back like GI Jane.

I can't give up. I can't.

There are many days that I just want to be weak. That I want to be one of those patients who sit in the wheelchair, all snugged up in the sweatpants, hiding under a hat or a wig. To feel the dispair and hopelessness and just say, "ok, I'm done with being strong for today." To feel vunerable and cry and cry and cry. And mourn for my losses.

But then I think of my protective circle of friends, and my family, and my Zoe, and the entire God Squad praying for me (and even you all. Especially now you all). I know that I can't give up. That I fight for them as much as I fight for me. There are too many people guarding me and praying for me to let them down. To let me down.

Zoe's name is Greek for "full of life" or "life giving." I never knew that when I named her that I'd once be fighting for my life. That she is my beacon of hope and the reason I have for living, for not giving up and giving in.

On the darkest of dark dark days, I reach out to my friends and family. I focus and fight. And then fight harder.

I can do this.

Your assignment for today is to be strong. To do something you have never done, would have never done before, or will never do again. Even if you are afraid, I still want you to do it. It doesn't have to be anything major, but I want you to hold your head up and fight your fear. If you've never been able to go to a restaurant or movie or a gym alone, I want you to go in there like the badass you are, and pretend like you do that all the time and that it's no big deal. If there is something new you've wanted to try before, or a class you've been thinking of taking, I want you to just f*cking do it. You'd be amazed what happens when you gather your strength, and you'll be glad you did. You can do this.

Posted by debutaunt at December 10, 2005 06:00 AM