The past few months have been, to say the least, the biggest challenge of my life. And I’m not kidding when I say that. I’ve gone through a heart attack at 30. Two knee surgeries before I was 40. Gastric Bypass Surgery (thank you for saving my life). And now this.
I relate my cancer to showing up six months ago, but in reality I’m sure it was over a year before diagnosis. Heavy horrible periods, hip pain, all the tell-tale signs that told me no tale.
I read other cancer blogs – people who are at stage IV. It makes me feel guilty sometimes that I am fighting as hard as I am to put this behind me. A stage III cancer diagnosis is scary. Scary. As. Hell. But then you hear of people at Stage IV and something in that brain clicks that says, “Hey, I could have it worse.”
It makes me feel bad to say that, well, yes, I am fighting this. With every single fiber of my being.
And I’m feeling it.
Surgery – yup. Bring it. Take it out. Get rid of it. Extract it. Remove that horrible cancerous tumor and all associated organs from my body. Worst recovery ever. But I did it.
Chemo? Why not. Bring it. Paclitaxil and Carboplatin. 3 Rounds. While I’m still recovering from my hysterectomy. Worst sick I’ve ever felt. But I did it.
Radiation? 25 rounds. Bring it. I’m still standing. Sicker than I was with chemo, and I worked through the entire process.
Brachytherapy? 3 rounds of someone putting a radioactive rod up my vag? Sure. Bring it. Horrible side effects, by the way. Feels like I’m still pissing razor blades and acid. But I did it.
Now, three more rounds of chemo. Bring them. Today I’d kill to eat. But it isn’t going to happen. Food and I are not on the same level today. I’m hungry, but the smell and taste aren’t happening. Bring on the saltines.
Remission? Hell yeah.
My grandmother was a 40+ year survivor of endometrial cancer. And I’m going to do it too.
I’m going to fight. Because I can. Because I’m worth it.
I’ve learned that dwelling on the negatives doesn’t really get me anywhere. I could, but really, it would just bring everyone down around me.
But I decided today, that I am no longer going to feel guilty for fighting. For doing everything in my power to win.
Because I wanna be just like my granny.
I’ll see you on my 84th birthday. And I’ll be wearing a “Fuck You Cancer” t-shirt.