Winter, too, shall pass

I was struck by an empty field on my way to my radiation simulation yesterday. I feel like these dormant branches...suspended in time, frozen by fears...the cold has set in in NH and the sun grows dim. I feel like crawling into a hole most days. I see moms holiday shopping with their kids as I go to pick up prescriptions and they give me a look and acknowledge my head scarf...then quickly turn away. Some women have looked me straight in the eye and wished me luck...it's very strange, watching people react to me. But most days I avoid looking at myself too.

I am down to 117 pounds. I'm not trying to loose weight but nothing appeals to me. Cooking is a chore or makes me nauseous. I don't enjoy eating at all. But I do try to prepare something for the kids and I manage to eat a little in front of them. Look at these suspended dried up flower/seed pods. I feel dried up too. My skin is flaky, my hair is just growing back...but my body reflects winter much more than spring...I look forward to the spring of next year...
HOPE.

Radiation starts December 10th (5 days a week for 6 weeks). I got my tattoos done yesterday. Laying on the table for over an hour was very emotional. I was stretched out with my arms over my head...topless...and tears were streaming down my face...the technician came to me and wiped my tears and told me to try to be still and not move...my mind was flooded with thoughts...reality of this past year.

It's Christmastime...and my birthday is this weekend...and my gift to myself is barely a 1/4 inch of hair on my head...my gift is life...cancer free...but in constant fear it might come back. Emily (8 1/2) has asked me several times..."Mommy, are you going to die?" I always assured her I wouldn't...but looking over the past several months...i really could have.

I took the picture of the clouds as I got back into my car after my simulation appointment. My head is in the clouds most days lately.

I then proceeded to drive past the hospice that is part of the hospital. I thanked God that the girls do not understand that word. "Hospice". I'm alive, I'm healing, I will be better soon. Thank you Jesus for carrying me these last few months, shielding my mind from the anguish of cancer. This is just a spell...a brief blip in the life of me...I'm going to be ok. God has a plan and it's His will, not mine. It's a relief to be able to let go.

Read about my original diagnosis here.

Read about Art Therapy and how me and my children have managed Cancer here.