Chemo #1

First of all, there are a million positive things I could say right now.  I have never been so touched by acts of such pure generosity and love.  The way you guys are carrying me through this is hard to explain.  I will write about this beauty, and love later.

Today sucked.  It was scary and long.  I was in “Pod 1” which is a big room with about 10 patient chairs and a nurse’s station.  It was awkward being with strangers as I experienced one of the hardest moments of my life.  I was probably given about 6 different medications through my IV that was hooked into my port (which feels beyond sore and tender).  I silently cried during the first two rounds of drugs.  It is so difficult knowing that you have to poison your whole body to kill the cancer.

I tried my best to visualize the drugs coming into my body and destroying the cancer.

I kept thinking about a retreat I attended in college.  A nun asked us to lay down on the floor in a way that represented our relationship to prayer, and God.  It was a strange request, but I remember laying down on my back with my arms spread wide open, and my eyes closed.  I felt vulnerable, but safe.  I felt open, and free.  If I had to do the same thing right now- I would chose the fetal position.  Because I feel scared, and hesitant.

But this is okay.  It is okay because I know that by chemo #6 — I will have my arms spread wide open.
I still have a lot to process.  A lot to let go of.  A lot to grieve.

Chemo # 1: my port feels like a bad burn, my body feels heavy, I have heart burn (which I have never had before), and I am scared to go to sleep because I have no idea what state I will wake up in.  Will it be worse?

I was planning on going to work tomorrow.  There are some people that get chemo –feel fine and then go to work.  I want to be one of those people! The doctors asked me to take off.  Told me to rest, and to come in for a shot that will help my white blood cells increase.  They said I should expect joint pain.

Fetal position.

But this is okay.  It is okay because I know that by chemo #6 — I will have my arms spread wide open.

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3 thoughts on “Chemo #1

  1. In this time, God has His arms wrapped tightly around you, as you hold yourself close in a fetal position. And He will dance with you in joy with when the time comes for you to throw your arms wide open. I love you!

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  2. There needs to be a “dislike” button. I vehemently dislike that you are going through this process! I dislike that this is an experience that you are writing about (not that you are writing about it – I love your writing, rather that it is a part of your life and because it is, you are writing about it. I hope that makes sense). You are right. You are one step toward being healed and getting your joyful life back. I’m looking forward to seeing you with your arms thrown wide open and a big smile on your face. Hang in there and focus on the future… it will be here.
    Love you Melissa…. Love you.

    Like

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