Me and Chemo

This is the story of chemotherapy and me.

If you have ever lost hope and found it again…or wish to find it again, this blog post is for you.

GRACE LIVES IN COURAGE

Here’s a little story about chemotherapy and me. It’s a story about hope, faith and appreciation.

If anyone would’ve suggested five years ago that I would make friends with chemo, I would’ve thought they had been smoking some funny stuff.

Chemotherapy is for people who are really ill, deathly ill. Everything about it scared me.

I had been through a lot including standing up to mean-spirited people as a child and to spooky sad ghosts as an adult so I was not lacking courage. I didn’t feel completely exempt from bad things happening; I just felt I could handle what occurred, come what may.

I’m all about karma, you know the law of cause-and-effect. I’ve long kept my thoughts pretty light and my spirit high so I thought I could protect the world…or at least my world. My understanding of the law of attraction left no room for something so bad. Not that bad. Not chemo bad.

I love people sight unseen and have always been pretty good at maintaining my happy or at least neutral even during pandemic times. Don’t get me wrong, I have had my share of blue moments, dark, dark blue in fact. As a result of surviving them, I felt less crushable.

There’s just something about being diagnosed with breast cancer and almost losing my life that set me on a different trail and it wasn’t one I wanted to be on. Yet I couldn’t get off.

I never dreamed I would be facing my own death by way of an infection gone wild that took hold during my first surgery.

After being diagnosed, I lost my balance and thought I had cancer because I had done something wrong. Hadn’t loved enough. Didn’t care enough.

After some soul-searching I realized that cancer is the one who didn’t care.

Cancer doesn’t care who you are, who you love, where you live, your age, your income, your status on social media, or how healthy you’ve always been.

Cancer feeds on what we breathe, drink, smell and eat.

Never has it been more clear to me that there are some things that happen in life over which we have no control.

Life gives and takes. It’s what we do with what we get that has the most power.

PROCESSING

Processing emotional baggage can be a messy and draining process. It takes time to find resolve.

I’ve been working hard to maintain my connection with the light from within by honoring my feelings and finding a safe place to express and explore them.

Allowing feelings to be felt for some, is unpopular and off limits. It’s too bitter and too messy. Yet we are freed when we allow what brews within…out.

We must care about ourselves enough to aim for the light and go deep. It’s good self-care. And good self-care is good soul-care. When we clear out the dark thoughts that haunt and hurt us, the light has a chance to shine from within.

There are some wounds that heal and reopen. If this happens, please don’t let it break your heart. It’s part of the evolution of the soul.

You gotta move through your sad to find your happy. Along the way do things that bring you joy. Focus on the fabulous or at least less crappy around you. Be okay with taking one step at a time. Represent yourself unapologetically.

Watch and listen for the irony and humor in day to day situations. And be sure to be open to signs from the Universe. Signs that show you how loved you truly are.

Because you are.

CHEMO, THE MAGICAL POTION

So about me and chemo.

I’m in a relationship with chemotherapy.

I am open to its chemical magic.

As it makes its way through my bloodstream it kills cancer cells. What’s more, it teaches every healthy cell in my body to stay together and not split and create cancerous tumors.

Chemo knows its job.

Its impact is felt on numerous levels. It has often knocked me out as it kicked cancers ass.

Thankfully, the human body is regenerative and miraculous.

The stakes are always high where chemo is concerned.

I am grateful for the magic.

I am glad to be alive.

SURROUNDED BY TALENT

As for me, I have been surrounded by talent. The talent of magical practitioners who love their trade and heal the world one patient at a time.

The heaviness that shadowed me has been lifted. I feel raw and free. I’m dancing around my kitchen again and even want to write.

I write to free myself of the heaviness I’ve carried because of a mass, half the size of a pea, that once made its home in my left breast at 12 o’clock.