This week has been hard, the last six months has been hard for that matter. Cancer and death both really suck...a lot! Mama started losing her hair a little bit after the third chemo treatment but it really started coming out after this past treatment (the 4th). It's hard to believe we are only on treatment 5 of 20. It feels like we've been fighting for so much longer, that's probably the exhaustion talking. It's 2:30AM here my sleep cycle is still all kinds of funky; thanks cancer really appreciate it. Our treatments are every Friday, that makes for...interesting weekends. Mama has been trying to be so strong but the hair hit her really hard. She asked me to comb it out for her while she was in the bath Saturday the hurt etched on her face when she saw how much was coming out was more painful than every hit I've ever taken. I really hate cancer.
Tuesday night she was really feeling rough. The nausea gets worse with every treatment, only 16 more to go. They can find a cure by then. I scratched her head for over two hours (my shoulder is still a bit sore). Hair came out with ever run through my fingers made. I used my lap and shirt to keep her from feeling it fall. I made sure there wasn't any left on the pillows or sheets when I left. I could prevent the pain of waking up to it for at least one morning. When I started scratching her head she said something that made me angry at everything but her, "I'm sorry for my hair getting everywhere." The shame in her voice made me glad she was turned away from me because I'm sure my face went about 3 or 4 shades red. "Don't apologize for things you can't control, Mama." She was hurting and trying not to puke her guts up but felt the need to apologize for strands of hair on a pillow. Someone want to try and explain to me how that isn't messed up? WARNING: Don't be dumb enough to accept that empty invitation I haven't had enough stress relief recently to resist knocking the snot out of you.
This process has redefined love in my eyes. I have seen many couples in the blood work or treatment waiting room but only one of them was a husband accompanying his wife to treatment instead of vice versa. There have been many women coming for treatment usually accompanied by another female but this past Friday a man renewed my hope in men just by sitting in a chair. He was playing on his phone but with one hand he held his wife's hand and ran his thumb back and forth. He was subconsciously caring for and soothing her. She and I were talking away about restaurants in the area that we enjoyed. This display of love was normal for them. This woman is going through a living hell (trust me it's an accurate description) and her husband is going the extra mile to make sure she is loved, taken care of, and shown she is loved looks and routine be damned. That's the kind of love I want. Make your actions support your claims. Treat others as you wish to be treated.
I've been hearing the same thing over and over again lately "focus on you" "take care of yourself." I have to be honest with ya'll, I have no clue how to do that. What does that mean? Are you trying to subtly say you care or you're worried or what? I'm a giver, I take care of others, that's what I've done my whole life. It's part of who I am and from what I've witnessed and been told a part many appreciate. Yes, I know if I keep going like this I'm going to crash and burn, I'm working on it. But I would prefer to get back closer to normality without medication and doing so is going to take time. Grief takes it toll on people differently and cancer has decided to elongate the cycle, yeah cancer rocks. That being said if anybody else dies in the next month or two I'm moving to a Caribbean island. One that doesn't have a working lighthouse. Ya'll think I'm kidding, I've researched this. Though, packing for that would mean cleaning my catch-all couch (I think there's still a couch under there)...we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
By the way, do ya'll know how fun it is to have a meeting with the Dean of Student Life at your college about your life as a necessary precaution? It's not. It's also no fun having to have the "my mother is being treated for breast cancer. I'm her primary caregiver, what paperwork do you need in case I have to miss class in an emergency situation?" talk with your professors. It really sucks when one of them lost her mother to cancer last year. Nope not having THAT discussion with you, bye! *quickly walk from room crying* Did I mention Tuesday really REALLY SUCKED!
Only 11 more months to this awful marathon. I can make it, we can make it. We will win. We are stronger than Cancer. The world will not run out of concealer, caffeine, or my best friend's awesomeness in the next year. Kettle corn and sweet potato fries are another story (I should probably take stock in those.)
It is now 4:30AM and I have finally completed a third post. Yay me!!! Pssshhh I don't need sleep and this was more fun than finding the couch under the catch-all. On to managerial accounting homework cause doing interpretive math sleep deprived is always a great idea. Did I forget to tell you my sarcasm has yet to be hindered? The pain management doctor didn't seem very appreciative of that fact either, oh well.
TTYS,
Aleena
Aleena
