Happy Anniversary to My Hubby

Corey and I just celebrated our one-year wedding anniversary and I never got him a card, because there wasn’t a card that could say everything that needed to be said to a man like this. This is a love letter to my husband, (so if you are not down for some mushy stuff, go away). Hehe!

Dear Corey,

I wrote this weeks ago, because I wanted to capture exactly how I felt in this moment in time.

I hesitate to even write this because just thinking about who you have been for me moves me to a waterfall of tears.

I know that when you get married you say all these vows like, "I promise to love, cherish . . . In sickness and in health, 'till death do us part’." You know the drill. We even wrote our own vows where I bawled my face off in front of 130 of our closest friends and family. I remember the only trouble I had writing it was my attempt to keep it short, I had so much I wanted to say to you. I mean we already did 9 years of you and me, so us getting married was just another way to show how much we loved each other. But when the big ‘C’ came into our lives, 6 short months later, I was scared that I had ruined the blissful path we had set our sights on. I wasn't sure how this would affect us, me, you . . . you and me. You have had a front row seat to it all and to say you have been my rock, would be an understatement. That does not encapsulate who you have been for me. SO, instead I will say THANK-YOU. Thank-you for your unwavering faith of, “We got this.” I never once looked at you and doubted that I was not going to be defeated by this. 

So, Thank-you for that first and foremost, but for so much more:

• Thank-you for taking me to appointment after appointment and holding my hand literally through each one. Thank-you for never judging me when my mood went from happy to uncontrollable tears within minutes.
• Thank-you for always making me laugh when I wanted to curl up in a ball and give up.
• Thank-you for bringing me my vitamins every morning and have it sitting the bed before I even open my eyes.
• Thank -you for coming home in the middle of the day, every day, to check on me, bring me food, or just keep my company.
• Thank-you for sitting with me until I fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon.
• Thank-you for your eyes that never showed pity or fear, just love.
• Thank-you for telling me I am beautiful day in and day out, (even in my daily uniform of robe, fuzzy socks and sunglasses).
• Thank-you for sleeping in the other room when you got a cold as to not affect me. 
• Thank-you for rubbing my head and kissing it goodnight.
• Thank-you for reading to me when my head and eyes hurt too much to read for myself.
• Thank you for bringing me snacks when you knew, that bag of Doritos might be the only thing that would bring me peace and I couldn’t leave the house to get them myself. AND for not getting me snacks that you knew would send my digestive track into chaos (like the pizza, burger and fries I always wanted).
• Thank-you for listening to all my complaining about the same things over and over and OVER, and not once sounding annoyed, you never made me feel like I exhausted you with the same old complaints, "My hair is falling out, my eyebrows, I cat eat, can't sleep, I'm sad, I'm angry, I'm cold, I'm hot, I'm depressed etc.”
• Thank-you for letting me buy all those clothes online even though we both know I had no damn place to wear them.
• Thank-you for laying around with me and watching all my favorite “chick flick” favorites.
• Thank-you for, Me: “Honey do I look like an alien, am I ugly?” You: “Ugly?? You are beautiful and look like a sexy milk dud.” And then kissed my bald head.
• Thank-you for never letting me give up on who I know myself to be, who you know me to be.
• Thank-you for being stronger than me (you always have been, one of the many reasons I married you).
• Thank-you for loving me unconditionally.

So, I have some words, but they will never be enough to express what you have been for me, it's a feeling, like I grab my heart and start to cry every time I think of who you have been. I know you know all this so I didn't need to write this, I tell you everyday how much I appreciate everything you do, BC (before cancer) and now. That is the type of relationship we have. This is for the world to know who you are. The best man I know. My best friend in every sense of the word. You are being the love of my life is a given, you are also my light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

I LOVE YOU

Your Wife, a.k.a. Sexy milk Dud

I lied about the Cake . . .

So, I lied . . . We'll sort of, I posted a celebratory cake on social a couple weeks ago, claiming I bought it to celebrate the doctor telling me my tumor had shrunk. The tumor shrinking was not the lie. It has shrunk almost by half since the last time she measured it. (Yes, this is a reason to celebrate!) So, after my appointment my good friend drove me to Pusatari's and followed me around as I drooled over every gourmet treat I could lay my eyes on. Then I saw that cake, you remember it? 6 layers of perfection with buttercream frosting, (with no artificial colors or preservatives of course). It looked like the kind of cake that when you bite into it your eyes will close out of sheer pleasure. I knew I wanted to dive into it face first. Could I justify buying a whole cake for no reason, especially one that was clearly marked “Birthday Cake?” My friend was like, "Why not? You deserve it, you and your hubby should be celebrating tonight, tumor shrinkage!" Me: "Yes you are right! I don't need a reason to buy a whole damn cake, I have cancer!” And yes, (in case you were all wondering), having cancer is literally the get out of jail free, do whatever you want without apologies card, so get over it.

When my hubby came home that afternoon I was so happy to greet him with that cake. First because I know birthday cake is his favorite and second because, now that he was home early I wouldn't have to feel bad cutting a huge chunk out of it by the time he came home that night. I was happy to give him the good news; the tumor was shrinking hooray! (I mean, it damn well better be, why else was I putting myself and my body through this emotional and physical hell??) So, in my mind I was having the cake to celebrate.

***SIDE NOTE: Eating has become a cruel joke. Chemo fucks with your taste buds so bad I never know what food is going to taste like. Sometimes it starts off tasting fine, then by the end of the meal the taste turns to garbage. Eating has become such a fucking chore that I would have done anything for food to taste like I remember. I really wanted to eat something, ANYTHING that gave me a moments pleasure.

But no matter how much of it I stuffed in my face, the feelings of joy quickly dissipated. The cake tasted damn delicious don't get it twisted, but I didn't feel like celebrating. Not even the smile on Corey's face, (which usually always works), shifted things for me, so I posted it to social so all of my loved ones who follow my journey could celebrate a win. Yay, Monique is getting better! I wanted that for them, and for me. I usually love reading all the comments, but it didn't work . . . I was sad and emotional and I didn't know why.

Then as I ran though that appointment in my head I realized that I didn't want to celebrate because this journey was still far from over. Yes, chemo is almost done (THANK GOD!!!), but new things were to come, (the things that I try to block out of my mind so I can function, like, surgery, recovery, radiation, hormone therapy - LET'S ALL SAY IT TOGETHER FUUUUUCK!)

While sitting on the Doctor’s exam table in my gown she went over the 2nd half of the chemo plan and side effects:

1. Still no hair (wishful thinking)
2. Mouth sores continue
3. Constipation
4. Indigestion continue (a.k.a. can't digest like 90%of anything?)
5. Fatigue will continue 
6. Food taste like sawdust
7. Blackening of the nails (Did I mention my fingernails are turning dark blue/black? Yes you can say it, WTF?)
8. THANK GOD SAY GOOD-BYE TO NAUSEA 
9. Aches and pains and soreness. . . I want to take a pause here- Can I just clarify aches/pains and soreness? What she should have said is you will feel like a 80 year old grandma, that was pushed down a flight of stairs and then rolled onto the street for some street kids to slap you with a stick.
10. Oh and let me know if there is any numbness in your fingers and toes, that could be serious . . .

Sooooo, yes chemo continues to be fucked up.

But all I could think about was, if the tumor is shrinking will I have to have surgery? So, I asked her, "If the tumor disappears will I still need to have surgery?

Her: "Yes"

Me:" Why?"

Her: "Because there could still be some cancer cells left behind."

Me: "Oh"

Her:" Monique, Chemo is not a cure, if we don't do surgery the tumor will grow back . . . " And there it was, the reason I couldn’t celebrate. That scared the fuck out of me! After going through all of this, the cancer could come back . . . It makes me scared to celebrate, to feel like there is a finished line, because I can celebrate the small wins but this will be something I mange in one way or another forever…. AND THAT no yummy cake could fix.

The silver lining? Her: "Monique, the good news is that you are responding to chemo, some people do not, the surgery ensures we get it all." 

I know I "should" be happier, but one thing I have learned is there is now way I “should” be, feel or act.  “Should” is bullshit. #stillhappychemoisalmostdone

Half Way to the Finish Line

Chemo treatment round # 4 has arrived! I am reminding myself that that would officially mean I am 50% through this chemo shit! Hooray! Right? Parades and bottle popping is in order! I should be celebrating, being positive and happy I made it this far? And I am . . . well I want to be at least. It's quite unbelievable, (to me at least), that I have made it this far, since my great escape is all I think about. I have a backed bag hidden in the back of the closet (Corey this post is not for you to read), a sweet air bnb on standby and my passport ready to go, I think living out my last days on a beach somewhere would be more my speed. I joke, (am I joking?), but I really fantasize about escaping this whole fucking, "I have cancer thing," about 75% of the time. I mean I have lived a pretty good life thus far, right? I have traveled the world, driven a speed boat or two, owned a business, married the hottest guy, I even shaved my head, so what else is there?? (I really wanted to meet Denzel Washington, but I am willing to let the one slide). I know how this sounds. You all believe in me and have supported me since the beginning, (so I apologize for the bitching in advance). Not to mention I come from a long line of strong, “Don’t mess with me because that would be the last mistake you ever made,” line of women. But this is such a mind fuck because you know the funny thing about cancer? You don’t feel like you have cancer until you try to, “cure” it. You can’t feel it. If I didn’t find that lump in my boob no one would be the wiser. I mean I would be worse off in the long run (So yes ladies, CHECK YOUR BOOBIES!!), but I didn’t feel sick. It wasn’t until I started injecting the remedy, into my veins, that I started feeling, what I would assume cancer should feel like, like I had actual cancer.  (Disclaimer: Cancer doesn’t feel like anything, it is the silent killer so don’t take my bitching about chemo as a reason not to have chemo if you need it, don't get it twisted it is saving my life).  So unfortunately quitting is not an option (obviously). As my hubby would say, “You are no quitter, never have been, never will be.” OK, I know, I know.

So like I was saying, I know I should be happier today. After today, (and if it all goes well), this treatment will mark the half way mark, but that still means I have to do this 5 MORE TIMES, (including today). I know that doesn’t sound like a lot. And considering people do rounds and rounds of this in some cases, I should be grateful. (I am only saying what some of you are thinking, but don’t get it twisted I know for some of you one round would have you throwing in the towel). I have even heard tales that some women go to work while doing chemo, (now that may or may not be true but I am clear that whatever chemo cocktail they have me on doesn't allow me to function as a normal human being for more than a few hours at a time each day, even on a good day, so whomever those women are, deserve a fucking metal!). I mean I have never met any personally, but that's why they are called tales, (gotta love those tales), of, "I knew a woman who . . .). Mind over matter, right? (You all know how I feel about that fucking statement so please don't go there).

A lot of people have been asking me, “but is it any easier, now that you know what to expect?” To which I reply, “Ummmm yes and no. Right when I think I know what is coming and how to manage it, something new pops up and I am back to figuring out a new way to manage that.” I am still out of commission for 6-8 days following chemo and it still sucks ass and I hate it. On the plus side, I didn’t have to feel my hair ripping from my scalp in my sleep this time. That is a silver lining, right? LOL! Now I am a bald baddass, doing chemo with no hair troubles.

The biggest news is that the tumor is ACTUALLY SHRINKING!!! I suppose I could have led the post with this news. LOL! Now this does deserve a party!!! My Oncologist measured it a couple weeks ago, and said, "You must feel to the touch that the tumor is softer, less hard then it was initially?" Me: Yes, but I didn't want to get my hopes up." I was happy OF COURSE! It also meant the chemo is working which on one hand meant, YES this was all worth it, and on the other hand meant, "Fuck its working, can't quit now!"  

As if quitting was ever an option, ya'll know me!

Chemo round #4 here we go!!! 

WAKE-UP CALL

I thought I would be the one, you know that 1% who's hair doesn't fall out from chemotherapy. Yes, I know naive, but I thought I would be the one to beat it. I’ve heard stories of people who did, I mean these were not legitimate sources by any means, but when you are desperate to believe you will grasp at any straw . . . (Note to self STOP grasping at straws).

Last week I walked into chemo treatment #2 with a smile, one might even say, with positivity in my step (it happens). I had my hubby on my arm and some experience in my back pocket, (after all I had done this once before), so I was feeling more confident all around. But most importantly I STILL HAVE MY HAIR ON MY HEAD! Verona, our nurse from our last visit even called out with a smile, "Wow your hair looks great!" I took that to really mean, "Wow you still have your hair?" Damn straight, I thought to myself. I mean it's not like I wasn't losing some stray hairs in a few choice places, (no need to mention), but the hair on my head was in tack and looking fab! And why not? My whole life I had been told how thick and strong my hair was. I come from a long line of women with what some would call, “problem hair,” (of course that would depend who you were speaking to). Only my black ladies would understand, you know that thick hair that you hate to comb and takes hours to wash and dry. I have given more then my share of hairstylist a few headaches.  But I didn't care because girls around the world would kill for it if it knew the resilience of it. No matter how many times I permed, dyed, cut, shaved, braided, damaged, twisted and permed some more, it always came back thick, full and strong. Can I get an AMEN!

I'm telling you I was feeling good!

Near the end of the treatment another nurse came in to ask how I was feeling and to give me my next appointment. She was nice, and had bouncy long luscious hair, so I asked her, “Of all the patients you see, how many keep their hair? I'm thinking Iike 20%. To which she replied, "Ummm I saw one woman once... " I just blinked . . . Hmmm, maybe she was new . . . not encouraging. I glanced at Corey and said, "Maybe I'll be the one?? Corey replied, “Yey babe.” Again not that encouraging. She smiled and looked at us and said, "What is cancer Monique?" We both paused for a minute. What kind of question was that? She answered for us, "Cancer is fast growing cells, rapidly growing cells we need to shut down." I guess I sort of saw where she was going with this.  "And what is chemo meant to do?" She continued, "Chemo not only shuts down the fast-growing cancer cells, but it also shuts down ALL fast- growing cells, including your hair. So, if your hair is falling out its an indication that the chemo is working, so look at it that way."  I paused and smiled. She smiled back and left. My first thought was, BITCH. LOL! Ok so my second thought was, she was right. Then I looked at Corey and said, "well does that mean if my hair isn't falling out that it's NOT working? F! Now I was worried... Well worry soon turned to trauma, because the next day my hair started falling out.  

Fast forward 2 days later Corey comes home in the day to check on me. I hadn't been feeling too well, (to be expected following treatment). He said he would hang with me for a while before heading back out and we started watching, “The Get Down,” on Netflix. 20 minutes in Corey looks over at me and I am sobbing. He looked panicked, "What's wrong?" I pointed to the nightstand beside me. While we were watching, I ran my fingers through my hair and a small clump came out in my hand. "Corey, I thought I would be prepared for this, but I’m not, I thought I would be OK with this, but I'm NOT!" He just consoled me while I sobbed and kept saying, “I am not OK with this,” repeatedly. Finally, he said, "I know this is not the most important thing, but I’m OK with it.” I couldn't help but smile, he is so sweet. "It isn't the most important thing but it matters that you are OK with it." I stopped sobbing and took the clump of hair and flushed it down the toilet.  I knew this was a possibility, not a small one, a BIG one. I KNOW people warned me, I KNOW what the books, pamphlets and all the now people I know who have had cancer, have told me. AND KNOWING MAKES NO DIFFERENCE. I was told, shave it as soon as you start losing it, because watching it fall out is fucking depressing. F! It’s more than depressing, it's fucking traumatizing, it's like, OK NOW I WILL LOOK LIKE I HAVE CANCER. Up until now I can hide it from the world. Hair indicates vitality and health. And I have great hair. Had great hair. Now I can't hide it. 

I know my friends and family have said, oh it's OK, you will look great bald, you already shave the sides of your head. Shaving your head voluntarily is not the same as it is falling out of your head with no control. I invite all of you to look in the mirror touch your hair then imagine it coming out in clumps with each stroke of a brush. It's not a pretty sight and no you are NEVER prepared for that. What I also wasn't prepared for was the pain. It's not enough that my hair was falling out, with each passing moment, I feel like my scalp was on fire. It’s like a bad sunburn, it’s fucking excruciating! No one told me this. I think I read something about beware of tingling, whomever wrote that needs a kick in the balls (yes, I am assuming it was a man). Even laying my head on the pillow with each turn of the head I could feel the hair ripping from my scalp! WTF WAS THAT ABOUT??!

So now its time it’s gotta go! I was hoping to postpone this as long as possible but the hair coming out in clumps is more than I can mentally handle. It doesn't even feel like it's my hair anymore, it's like wearing a toupee, just laying on my head. It's killing me. SO as soon as I can muster the mental strength it will be gone. Until then I avoid touching my hair in fear of what might end up in my hand when I do.