But, I think that I managed daily life surprisingly well. In the last two months:
- I have increased my strength and range of motion (I can even carry my sleeping daughter home after an evening with friends and can do most yoga poses).
- I survived a poorly timed week and a half of chicken pox where my daughter, full of energy, complained incessantly. I am very proud of myself for refraining from saying, "try having cancer" every time she whined (instead, I calmly applied more calamine lotion).
- I had a birthday and threw my first real party since my surgery; there were many margaritas and tacos served and people stayed well beyond the stated end time.
- I helped two of my M.A. students submit their theses by the deadline, the most demanding and satisfying of my recent accomplishments.
However, along with these achievements came a pretty big blow. I found out that I needed chemotherapy (as a preventative measure, thankfully). I was prescribed 6 months of two different kinds of chemotherapy (for three months each). This is apparently common protocol but it really came as a shock to me. I was under the pretty naive impression that surgery was sufficient (especially after finding out that my cancer did not spread to nearby lymph nodes).
I actually started chemo on Monday (today is day 6 of 168) and it is pretty much as nightmarish as I had imagined. But, I am thankful for my daughter's grandparents who helped me out at the beginning of the week, for day camp so that I can rest up for the evenings, for my daughter who is resilient and kind, for my friends who are all standing by me, and for french fries (the only food that I seem to be able to eat).
To help you relate (or, maybe to bring you down to my level), here is a link to the best vomit scene in the history of film. It is the first thing that I thought of when my chemotherapy side effects started with a vengeance. Enjoy!