The Caterpillar and the Butterfly

So the chemo is over. I guess I'm pretty happy that I'm not getting poison pumped into me on a weekly basis anymore. And I'm REALLY happy that the chemo did it's job. But, I've come to realize that even though I'm not getting the weekly drip anymore, it's going to be awhile before I'm feeling back to normal.

So now I'm dealing with the repercussions of 6 months of chemo and trying to be positive about it. I've got three fingernails that are in the process of coming off, my eyelashes are all but gone, and my eyebrows aren't much better. I've got a head full of fuzz (at least it's growing back, I guess) and I'm dealing with about 10 pounds of chemo weight that is driving me absolutely crazy. I know it's all temporary. Everyone tells me it's not a big deal. I guess I'm not supposed to care about what I look like.

It's pretty hard, though, to go out of the house every morning feeling like I look......I don't know......like someone else. Like some other poor sick soul. It's REALLY hard to look in the mirror and not recognize myself. I seriously surprise myself almost every time. It is almost the hardest part of this whole ordeal.

I say almost because I think I've figured out the hardest part really is. I'm actually still wrapping my head around it. I even said it in the first paragraph of this first post - "it's going to be awhile before I'm feeling back to normal". The funny thing is, though, I don't think I'm ever going to feel back to normal. At least, not the normal that I have always known.

Up to this point I've kind of been plowing through everything so I could get back to the way I was before. It wasn't until I met with an oncologist that deals with long term hormone therapy that I realized this cancer crap isn't going away anytime soon. I've got another 10 years of treatment and not feeling like myself to get through.

Realizing this made me cry.

The short term stiff upper lip is easy. For the long term, though, keeping that upper lip from quivering gets a little harder. It kind of wears you down. And all you want is just feel normal again....to not have to deal with any of it.....to recognize yourself in the mirror.

But it's not going to happen. And it's something I just have to get into my thick head. Normal is now NOT having cancer. Normal is scars and new body parts. Normal is no cancer-feeding estrogen in my body. Normal is starting over, finding out what my new body can do, and testing its limits.

Normal is going to take me awhile to get to.

But a friend sent me a card this week that helped. It says, "Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly...."

Thanks, Meg. I'm looking forward to my butterfly moment.