Lately

1- Today, I completed my 13th treatment.  Only 20 to go!  I’ve actually enjoyed my daily drives to Columbia.  I grab my coffee every morning and crank up the iTunes.  (My 2001 Tahoe isn’t equipped with a fancy outlet to hear my iTunes through the speakers….like some Mayor I know, so I rock the ear buds.)

2-Mel finally got a “new-to-him” Tahoe last week.  I’m super happy for him.  He felt so guilty, but I finally convinced him that as long as we can still plan on the two new bathrooms and kitchen upgrade this summer, he should go ahead and get it.  He’s worked so hard.  It’s certainly well-deserved.  It’s a couple of years old, but still has every bell and whistle you can imagine.  The girls love to ride with Daddy now.

3-I’ve officially not worn a wig since our trip to Chicago.   I wore my newest blondish wig the entire trip-enough to convince me to never wear a wig again.

4-I just mailed McCanless’s summer camp forms off for this summer!  She’ll go for just a week again this year.  I’m not quite ready for her to go any longer just yet.

5-Mel and I went to the see a movie together last night.  I think it was the second movie we’ve ever been to, just the two of us.  Not kidding.  I’m not a movie girl and IF I go, it’s usually to see Rapunzel or Dolphin Tale or something of the sort with the girls-not typically a Mel kind of movie.  Since the girls were away, we took full advantage.  We even ate Mexican beforehand and snuck in M&Ms and Junior Mints.  Did you know a Hartsville Cinema Twin movie ticket is $2?  (I swear it’s a legit Regal Cinema, too.)  Funny, because our small popcorn and drinks were $15.  We saw The Hunger Games since I can’t seem to get middle school literature out of my system.  I read the trilogy last week just so I could see the movie while the girls were away.  As always, the books were far better than the movie.  Which is why I don’t like movies.

other stuff…

I have so much to think about on my morning drives to Columbia.  I need to take a tape-recorder to capture my thoughts.  They’d make great blogging material.  And speaking of, it seems my blog has taken a backseat lately with all that is going on.  Spring is filled with upcoming programs, dance, end-of-school excitement and cramming.  This week is Spring Break and the girls are at the beach with Nonnie, Kacy and Kate, soaking up the beach sun and sand until we can officially go uninterrupted by school. We are all so ready for summer.

Mel and I were asked to be the torch bearers at the opening ceremony of the Relay for Life Luminiara Ceremony next weekend.  Wow.  I’m so very humbled and honored and saddened and happy to have the privilege to do so.  We don’t have a team this year, as we got a really late start.  I think we’ll just invite friends and family to walk the opening lap with us.  (Maybe even get working on that “Half-a-Brain, Half-a Heart and Half-a-Boob” shirt Mel thought of so long ago.)

I’ve also been asked to write something to be read as we take our first lap.  I guess throughout all of this, it’s been hard to believe it was/is even happening to me.  Even now as I walk out of SCOA everyday strong and healthy, I feel sad for the not-so-healthy people I see.  I know I shouldn’t.  I’m on their team.  Technically, I’m not even considered “caner-free” yet.  But it’s one thing that I hated.  I never wanted anyone to feel sorry for me.  Cancer is a part of life.  Sad, but true.  Why shouldn’t I get cancer anyway?  Why should I be spared when so many others aren’t?  I knew I would fight the battle and move on.  Get on with life.

I’m learning everyday that it isn’t such an easy journey for others.

I think of one woman in particular. She’s probably not much older than me.  I don’t know her name, although I should.  I see her every morning.  Waiting.  She’s in a different waiting area and always has someone with her.  To drive, I imagine. Although she’s always on the radiation side of the building, I noticed the tell-tale signs of a chemo patient:  thin, whispy hair, yellow skin, deep circles around wide barren eyes, a frail walk.

After several mornings of casual waves and hellos, grasping onto her husband, she asked me what size guard I used on my clippers.  I laughed and explained that months ago after a trip to my hair stylist and getting 7 inches chopped, Mel used a #2, then #1, then nothing.  I told her that I, too, was going bald due to chemotherapy before I made the decision to shave it.  My current style was not by choice, it is what has resulted from what chemo took from me months ago.

“My chemo didn’t work, which is why I still have some hair left.  I’ve stopped chemo now.  I’m taking radiation as a last ditch effort.” she said with a smile.  Then continued on with how amazing my hair looked.

What I thought was self-confidence is merely arrogance.  How dumb of me to waltz through SCOA as if chemo, radiation and cancer is easy.

Which is why I’m having such a hard time finding words to write for the Luminiara Ceremony.  Cancer isn’t easy, but for some reason, I have been blessed with health.  Despite cancer, despite chemo, despite radiation.  I shouldn’t have the honor of carrying the torch.  So many others have fought this battle and have had to sacrifice so much more than I have.  Even Mary Clare has battled much longer and harder than I have.  She has overcome the odds and has learned to live life to the fullest every single day despite how difficult it can be for her.

I’m not deserving to carry the torch.  At this moment I can think of so many others who have been sick for years, or my friend Betsy who lost her mother, or my new friend who is desperately hanging onto hope that radiation will work.   These people have suffered because of cancer.  Their lives have forever changed because of cancer.

I can only hope that God gives me the courage to represent those of us who have fought the battle and won and the words to touch those who have not been so fortunate.

This morning, I noticed my new radiation friend has a short new hair cut.  Gone are her thin, brown, wispy locks.  She winked at me as I walked by her  in her waiting area.  She pointed to me and explained to her friend that I was her inspiration.

If only I had the nerve to stop and tell her that she is a true inspiration.  She has taught me so much more than she will ever realize.

 

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