Day 4
Today is my husband and my 12th wedding anniversary. It is the perfect October day and reminds me exactly of that incredible day 12 years ago. The leaves are outrageous in their bursts of red and orange and yellow, and a sudden breeze whips unexpectedly through the trees and creates a frenzy of falling splashes of color.
I had no idea what I was doing, getting married back then. I thought I knew what love was - but I think now, I didn't really have a clue.
We have been through 12 years of life, of laughter and tears, great losses and some triumphs... the most incredible highs and the most desperate lows. Somehow, we have persevered, despite our failings and our miscommunications and our (my...) selfish tendencies.
.... so here we are today... and I am in the middle of the YUCK of chemo... I want to be making breakfast in bed for my husband, and sadly, I am dragging myself through the kitchen, breathing deeply and slowly to avoid a vomit-fest and popping my morning Zofran with the 23 other pills I am taking to GET HEALTHY. I couldn't stomach the thought of more eggs today, so I made myself my keto-smoothie, with Green powder and Stevia and cacao and coconut milk. I am sipping it slowly, out on the porch. The girls have just left my lap, where Margaux wrapped her little body around mine, and Ellis shimmied up into the chair next to me. Merus is watching her show, but coming in and out to check on me... and it is a reminder that I am so lucky to have my sweet kids, even in the middle of all of my physical feeling of badness.
I had a little meltdown a bit ago. I hate HATE to feel sick. I was brushing my teeth and Russ asked me how I felt, and I cried... I cried because I feel bad. I cried because I HATE that I had cancer and I have to do all this and take these meds and change my diet and change my entire life. I cried because I don't want to do this chemo three more times. I cried, because I know that this is the "easy chemo"- and so many other women are in such a worse situation than I am... and I am sad for their plights too. I cried for my new strange body and the port that hurts me every time I lift my arm up. I cried - and then I stopped.
Time marches inexorably on. The only thing we can guarantee is that time will go on, even if we do not. If I just breathe in and out, then seconds pass and then my moments of angst and horror and sadness at this current situation will pass too. This season of CHANGE will evolve into the season of Thanksgiving and then Christmas... and then into a new year. Time will launch us into more change and it will bring opportunity to BE and CREATE and LIVE... and all of that will be good.
I celebrate my husband today. In my own meek half-hearted, sickly, celebratory way, I am commemorating our years as marks of time and I am celebrating his presence as proof that I am here, that I am ok, that his love will hold me up when I feel weak (which is today)- and that OUR love has helped create the most incredible little trio of blue-eyed girls who lighten my soul and give me hope and comfort and joy every day.
I am so grateful for all that I have, all the love surrounding me, even in the midst of the yuck. The yuck will pass... and I will be left with only joy.
Love love love my people... with all of me.
