Chemo 11 of 12--Taxol & Let's Get Real

Chemo Treatment 11 of 12--Taxol

I had my 11th treatment of Taxol on Friday, January 3, 2014.  I only have one more treatment of Taxol left, then I get three week off from chemo before I begin the AC treatments.  The AC treatments will only be every other week (or maybe it's every three weeks), so at least I won't be driving to Columbus every week (sometimes more) like I am now.  I am looking forward to a little break from having poison in my body.  I would simply like to feel normal again if only for a short period of time.  I am dreading the AC all the same as I am told it's much harder than Taxol.  However, it's a road I must travel to reach the intended destination, so travel it I shall.

Having reached my 11th treatment, it pains me to admit I can feel the wear on my mind, body, and spirit.  As hard as I try to remain positive and look as normal as I possibly can, I must admit I can feel the treatments wearing down my body.  My blood counts all looked good on Friday (although one had dropped to almost half of what it was the previous week), but I can FEEL a difference.  My body aches almost constantly now.  While I still have trouble falling asleep and staying asleep, I need a lot of naps just to get myself through the day.  I feel tired and a bit drained most of the time, and putting a load of laundry in the washer is sometimes one more chore than I can stand the idea of doing--much less actually doing.  I am a stubborn person, and I do not like to admit weakness; but I must be honest with those reading this blog who are facing this demon and wondering what to expect; therefore, I admit it's definitely getting harder.

In addition to feeling the effects of the accumulated Chemo I've had so far, I can also see how it's affecting my appearance.  I have been determined since I first found out I would not allow cancer to make me lose my drive to get dressed up, wear the clothes that make me feel good, and take pride in my appearance.  One particular situation constantly popped into my head when I was trying to imagine where this cancer road was going to take me--before I lost my hair, looked or felt any different.  About five years ago, I was sitting at McDonalds eating lunch with my kids.  As we were sitting there, a mother and her daughter walked in that I have known for many years.  While we were never the best of friends, we were friends--or acquaintances.  We had many friends in common I suppose.  I was shocked to see her walk in as I almost didn't recognize her.  She was so skinny, her face was very pale, she had no eyebrows or eyelashes, and she was clearly bald beneath the bandanna she was wearing.  Her clothes were hanging on her from being too big.  I immediately recognized the way cancer can ravage a body and one's appearance, and I felt guilty for even looking at her.  I didn't even know she had cancer until that moment.  I felt so much sadness and pity for her and for her children.  Yes, I said pity.  As much as I hate to admit it, I felt the pity I see in the eyes of others that frustrates me.

When I was told I had cancer, that's the first image that came to my mind.  In my mind, I thought "that's what I am going to look like in a few short months.  But determination eventually took over, and I became determined to be the exact opposite.  I didn't want to look like cancer or be the person people felt sorry for when she walked into a room.  I didn't want to be easily recognizable as cancer.  I wanted to continue to feel good, look good, and dress/act the way I always did.  It became a personal mission of mine to thumb my nose at the typical cancer look.  I didn't care how much makeup it took, how many wigs I had to buy, and how much effort I had to exert.  I did not want to be that memory for someone.  Not that she looked so bad, but because it affected me so deeply.  Having been through treatments (with more to go) I now understand why she likely didn't take the time to get herself fixed up.  Sometimes you're just so tired to care.  Sometimes the effort it just too much.

Looking "normal" is becoming more and more of a chore.  My makeup routine takes a lot longer than it used to.  I have always worn makeup; but I never had to take as much time as I've have to take recently. My eyebrows are very thin and completely missing in some areas now.  This means I have have to take a lot of time to fill them in.  While I always kept my eyebrows groomed, I was never one to put much effort into them otherwise.  I am completely missing my bottom eyelashes now, so I have to make sure I do a very good job of using eyeliner.  Even the smallest mistake is obvious now without eyelashes to hide it.  For now, I still have my upper eyelashes, but I know it's just a matter of time before they too disappear.  Once that happens, it will add more time to my makeup routine as I will have to apply false eyelashes.  My complexion has changed since I began treatment.  I'm pale, and I just have a drawn and tired look.  This means the use of a self tanner regularly so I don't look like a ghost.  Without foundation makeup, I would be lost.  And I use a lot more than I used to have to use.  Which is frustrating.  I hate the feel of a lot of makeup on my face.

The transformation that occurs when I come home and am fixed up to being scrubbed free of makeup and take my wig off is quite shocking.  I look in the mirror, and I don't recognize myself anymore.  Yes, it's still my eyes, but they are heavier and sader.  Yes, it's my face, but it's older already.  Cancer has made its mark on me, and I know it has an even bigger mark to leave when it comes time for my surgery.  I am struggling to accept all these changes in spite of how much I try to fight them.  These aren't changes I wanted to make in my life.  They have invited themselves into my life, and they are an unwanted guest.  I think about the times I said I looked awful without makeup and my hair a mess.  What I wouldn't give to look like that again.

I know God has a plan for me, and I must accept it and this; but it doesn't make this any easier.  I miss my life.  I miss me.  I miss laughing without cancer in the back of my mind.  I miss having hair.  I even miss needing to shave my legs.  I miss having extra money--every dime goes into my gas tank for treatments now it seems.  I miss my life without cancer.

I know my blogs are usually very positive, but today, I am just being real.

God Bless and stay warm--it's cold outside!