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

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. 

DIDN'T THEY WARN YOU?

First, I will apologize in advance if this post is not as coherent as the previous ones. The quickness I pride myself on, (and know myself to be), may be hidden under what they tell me is, “chemo brain,” a sort of fogginess that your mind endures while undergoing treatment. It has been 1 week since my first chemo treatment and today marks the day they tell me I will start feeling some what, “normal” again. Well those fuckers better be right because these last 6 days have been the worst days my body has ever experienced.

What I pictured I would be doing during this much-deserved time off:

1. Well resting of course (I have fucking cancer)
2. Reading books
3. Possibly learning a new language
4. Experimenting with new vegan recipes
5. Writing New York Times bestseller (of course)
6. Creating a new clothing line (I mean why not?)
7. Making my own line of #Fcancer emojis
8. Feng Shuing my bedroom (Note I mentioned this to Corey and his eye roll couldn’t have been more dramatic)
9. Doing my Taxes (that’s a lie)
10. Taking up yoga and start meditating (becoming all Zen and shit)
11. Binging on Netflix (of course)
12. Reflecting on the important things in life (you know like, #Fcancer emojis)   

The funny thing about chemo is it has a whole other plan that it never lets you in on. It sweeps in like a cloud and says something like, "You funny girl, this is not a vaca" . . . Fucker. 

The first day after chemo was fine, I mean I felt a bit tired but not too bad (you saw the last blog post I was ready to go!) By day two I thought maybe I would be, the one, who would beat all those adverse side effects chemo is so famous for:

Fatigue

Hair loss

Easy bruising and bleeding

Infection

Anemia (low red blood cell counts)

Nausea and vomiting

Appetite changes

Constipation

Fever (Just to name a few . . .)

I WAS WRONG! By day two in the afternoon shit went down. So yes I was warned, however it's like a mother telling a pregnant person that pushing a baby through your vagina, (sorry to be so graphic), is going to hurt like hell, are you ever really prepared for that? I'm just saying.

Let’s start with #1 FATIGUE. You know when I read that I was like, “OK I’ll be tired, no big deal, I know what that feels like, sort of like after a spin class, right?” HA! I KNOW NOTHING!!! I have tried to describe this feeling to people and the best comparison I could come up with is, it's sort of like being hit by a truck. How many people know what being hit by a truck really feels like? Not many. But one can imagine, right? WRONG!

It’s kinda like this . . .

• Walk down the stairs? Walking back up felt like I did an hour of CrossFit.
• Every conversation had a time limit, (one minute I’d be speaking the next I would feel like a hundred pound weight was sitting on my body).
• One minute I am staring at my husband so grateful he is here, the next I am wondering why is he taking so fast and so loud, (he later informs me was not the case), regardless it exhausted me and I need a nap.
• One minute I wish I was back in my old life, worrying about stupid shit like what to wear, the next I’m grateful that not combing my hair is a deal breaker because that would require lifting a brush.
• One minute I want to cry woe is me! The next? Well I am asleep to be quite honest, it takes way too much energy to even feel sorry for myself. LOL!

In short, my limbs felt like Jell-O, and every little movement took effort.

Then there is the nausea . . . one minute I’m famished and the next the smell or site of food is repulsive. Each day melts into the next, which I suppose is irrelevant when the only thing you have planned that day is to "keep you spirits up.” That's something people say to me, "keep your spirits up!" Or, “Monique it’s mind over matter,” (that one REALLY makes me want to take baseball bat to a knee cap). It’s like if I could have my mind tell my body to get it’s act together I would not have cancer, (AND my mind could alleviate, the constipation from hell, the 24-hour indigestion, the fluctuations in body temperature, the dizzy spells, metallic taste that pops up out of no where! The joint and muscle pain, the bouts of fever, and the chapped lips that stop shed a new layer of skin daily), all with the power of my mind! Wow I would be so powerful! Soooo I recommend not saying that to people undergoing chemo, just a tip.

**(Mood swings may or may not be a side effect as well, I can neither confirm or deny that).

In short CHEMO SUCKS! Not like in a getting a Brazilian wax, tattooing your face, ripping your fingernails away with pliers kinda sucks. More like . . . well like I said, unless you have done it, there really is no comparison. But hey today is better then yesterday, hooray for day 7!!!