Is Cancer Teaching Me Something?

I feel my whole life was about getting six pack abs, (OK maybe not my whole life, but it was an obsession). If I could just work out more, more sit ups, do more cardio I would get there. Then when that didn't work I was sure it was what I was eating. So, I cut out all the things I love, (just to feel guilty each time I put a donut in my mouth), it was torture, ladies you know what I am talking about!. I thought I even had an eating disorder because I would hide what I was eating from the hubby, as if he didn't know after seeing the Doritos bags floundering about. But I continued to work out hard and be unhappy with what looked back in the mirror. If I could just loose that last 10 lbs, I would be happy, right? I would beat myself up for not staying on the treadmill long enough, I mean look at all those other people who can run for miles on end . . . fuckers, I would say (yes I be hatin'). 10 more pounds and I would get that six pack and be happy! Funny story . . .  then I got cancer, and I had chemo and couldn't eat a damn thing. The smell of food made me want to vomit, I couldn't eat more than a palm size meal at any given time and I lost those 10 lbs in a heart beat. 5 lbs, then 10 lbs then 15 lbs . . . all my dreams were coming true. F!

So, my obsession about food and loosing weight turned into obsession about what could I digest without pain. Digestion was a full-time job, in the beginning it would hurt to eat. Not just the fear of the digestion, but also the fear of would it be able to pass out of the other end? (TMI, but that too was a full-time job).  Acid reflux, heartburn, and nausea became my cross to bear. Nothing seemed to ever want to pass that lump in my chest. I would cry hours after I ate because it still did not pass. WTF was this shit?! I would think. It was a nightmare. I still craved the pizza and fries, only now I knew if I ate it there would be consequences . . . and yet sometimes I still did because it was the only thing that brought me a moments peace.  The silver lining . . . I lost that last 10 lbs I had been gunning for all those years. All these years I have been punishing myself, killing myself at the gym and eliminating all the foods I love, and all I had to do to lose weight, was to go on the chemo diet. Duh!

**Side note-  I didn't have that 6 pack that I was convinced was under there, by the way. And for once I don’t care . . . Ok that's a lie, I was like, WTF? That's some BS, where the hell is my 6 pack?!

As I write this today I feel great, so no woe is me, that food nightmare is in my rear view. I am on my last leg of chemo called, Taxol, and it doesn’t have half the side effects of those first 4 rounds, (Thank the Lord!) Summer has sprung just in time and I can eat normal things again (within reason). So, what had me bring this up? Glad you asked, well in case I haven’t mentioned it, there is a very good chance I will have at least one of my breast chopped off. Yes, the imminent surgery looming has given me a new-found respect for every inch of my body. I DO NOT want to have the conversation, “Don’t worry you can just get implants.” It is not that simple and I do not want to educate you all before I know the outcome for me, so let’s shelve that convo. I want to make you present to the gift called your body. Stand naked in the mirror and take a look. Now imagine having any part of it chopped off. The end. Not gonna get anymore morbid then that . . . for now. AND this is not about my boobs getting chopped off (sort of, no shit I am really scared about that).

This is about how I have started to realize how much I haven’t appreciated this entire vessel over my 36 years. And how if I had a daughter and she spoke about her body they way I did, I would throw her into therapy and got her some serious help. That goes for my friends as well. I don’t know many people who love their body 100% exactly how it is and exactly how it isn’t. It’s not wrong, it just makes me sad. We don’t realize the endless conversations about losing weight impacts our self esteem and our entire way of being. There is nothing like the possibility of having a chunk of you cut off to make you realize how much you have mistreated this vehicle that takes you though your everyday life. 

I am declaring a love for my body, exactly how it is, and exactly how it isn’t. I won't always love it, and it will take some reminding but I want to appreciate every inch of it as long as I can, because sometime soon I may not have those pieces anymore (not to be morbid about it) but it's true. So, ladies love your bodies, however they are and however they are not, because I know most of you who read this and you are all stunning and fucking beautiful. Period. 

**Side note, I am not saying not work out for your health. Your health is all you have. I am saying forgive yourself for not looking like an Instagram model, that shit be filtered. Ha ha!!! 

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!!!