Half way through purgatory

It's taken me a bit of energy to muster up enough strength to provide an update since my fourth chemo treatment on Thursday.  So this morning I finally do, and wouldn't you know it . . . I lose the entire blog.  All gone. Okay, okay so is this a big deal or a small deal?  After several descriptive words and a bit of a temper tantrum, it's a small deal, and it turned out in hindsight to be a good deal.  I sat on this chair for several hours feeling completely miserable.  My fifth consecutive day since chemo feeling awful.  As I was adding one photo to my blog, bam, it's all gone in the blink of an eye.  Curse, yell, curse, yell, and even a stomp.  Then all of a sudden I realize I feel the best I have since chemo.  Was it my blogging that made me feel better?  Was it my burst of anger, which was an actual exertion of some energy?  Who knows, so I will say a combination . . . anyways, I feel good enough to try to recreate my latest blog - so that is a real good deal!

The past five days have been real rough on me.  On Thursday going into my fourth round of chemo, I had this false sense of ease that since this was my last red devil cocktail I would feel better.  Not the case.  How do I feel?  This is a question people often ask, and to this point, I continue to struggle to find the appropriate description.  I often say "I feel like a Mack truck hit me while having the worse hangover you could imagine in college."  Even this does not do it justice.  Maybe going through some of the descriptive words will help . . . tired, anxious, foggy, nauseous, drained, anxious, sore, stiff, cold, tired, restless . . . did I mentioned tired and anxious?  I would have to say tired and anxious continue to rear their ugly head most often.  Think of those two words together just for a moment - "tired" and "anxious".  Now think of trying to concentrate to write a blog (twice).

At this moment, I also thought I would be looking back on the past eight weeks feeling a sense of accomplishment; but I keep looking forward thinking eight more weeks of this.  I feel like the red devil is forging its war inside me.  How can I keep going?  Eight more weeks.  What is the new chemo cocktail going to do do me?  Why me?  Eight more weeks.  What happened to my sense of control? Shouldn't I have a routine by now?  How come everyday when I wake up I never I expect what occurs?  Okay, so eight more weeks, but at least I am done with the red devil.  I start a new cocktail, and I must move forward into uncharted territories.  I am not certain how my body will respond, but the one thing I do know is I have the support and inspiration from so many people.

When I look back on my journey, there may not be a sense of accomplishment, but there is a clear understanding I would not be where I am today without all the overwhelming love, care and support of my family, friends, coworkers, and each and everyone of you!  My entire life I have been the caregiver and the fixer, so it has taken me a quite some time to get comfortable in this new role of the receiver.  The sheer amount of love, understanding and encouragement I have received has been completely overpowering.  I am OVERWHELMED on a daily basis.  I am trying my hardest to be comfortable in this situation, but it is very new for me.  However, one thing cancer has taught me is you need any army behind you, and boy do I ever have the biggest and baddest one!

I know I am not mentally strong enough to fight this evil disease on my own, and I thrive on your love, positive thoughts and encouraging words daily.  So from the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you for all the positive vibes, gifts and caring words.  More importantly, thank you for teaching me how to receive.  You are so good for my soul . . .