“She doesn’t look sick”

{{I’m going to go ahead and drop this “sorry” off right here for the rant that is about to become this blog post. I really went back and forth about writing it because honestly, who has time for negativity? Further more, who has time to rant about negativity? Well.. I had a few extra minutes, so I guess this girl does.}

Looking back to last week, when I had my first treatment,  the day of and the days after were long and I was exhausted. I had to pull every ounce of my energy together to get out of bed and move my lazy butt to the couch. I had to tape my eyes open to spend time with my family and force myself to eat a banana. As much as I love a good selfie and an Instagram post about my journey, I’m not going to post a picture of me in sweatpants, no makeup, half asleep with unbrushed hair. I’ll spare the world of that frightening sight! After the first couple of days passed I was able to move on to medication that would make me less like a zombie and as close to normal as I was gonna get. And those are the days that I am going to embrace and hold on to. I’m going to indulge in the fact that I can get up and dressed and leave the house. I’m going to clean the house and do dishes on days where I’m not passed out in bed. I’m going to go to Target and take my son Raylan for a walk, because I can! I’m going to go to that Halloween party, or trick or treating because I know there will be days that I won’t be able to live my life. And I have to grab on to the good days while I can and live while I can!! This next year is going to have a lot of down days. A lot of hard days where I won’t be able to do much. Days where I’m going to look rougher than Rick Pitino after the allegations and penelties placed on his team. Seriously though, I hope I never look THAT rough. 

So here is where the rant begins. {I already apologized, right?}  

What is cancer supposed to look like? In our heads we see it like we’ve been subjected to in television and movies. One is diagnosed with a life threatening disease and two weeks later is curled up in a bed with no hair, wrapped in blankets with a washcloth on their forehead reaching for the water on their nightstand that they just can’t grasp. In some cases, this may be ones reality. Especially years ago when medicine wasn’t as advanced as it is today. They are putting poison into my body. Poison that is attacking every single cell and body part. Before, when one would receive this poison without the advancements they have today, their days would look exactly like television and movies portray cancer to “look like”. (Please note that some are still suffering with this today and I am by no means discrediting that). But then there are patients in today’s age who get mounds of medication before the poison is even inserted. Ie: me.  Medication to help control the vomiting and aches and pains and everything else that I won’t even bother you with. Medication that helps me live the best life I can while I am fighting this battle. I sit with icepacks burning my hands and feet for the hour to two hour drip so I can avoid side affects such as nail damage, skin damage and neuropathy. I glob on numbing cream so accessing my port isn’t painful. There are some who choose to literally freeze their head for hours at a time to save their hair. What I’m getting at is that there are new ways to help with the side affects of chemotherapy. Which is amazing. And I take advantage of them. But just because I don’t “look” sick, doesn’t mean that I’m not. 

My point is this. Cancer doesn’t look any certain way. One doesn’t have to appear sick on the outside to in fact be sick. As my amazing nurse Amy said yesterday during this same rant , “no one is guaranteed life. I could die tomorrow so today I’m going to live my best life”. And there have been no greater words spoken. So while this is a tragic situation. And I’m crumbling on the inside, emotionally and physically... when I post a picture with a smile on my face, surrounded by friends in a fun setting...it in no way indicates that I’m not fighting for my life. Or that I am not sick or scared. But while I fight, I’m going to live too. Because no one is guaranteed tomorrow. Especially when cancer is growing inside my body. 

So for those few people out there that have had their doubts about my illness or have a misconception about what cancer should look like, let me try to enlighten you.  I am in fact fighting for my life. While I am at Target. While I am visiting with friends and while I am taking a walk in the park.  I am fighting while I am living. Because cancer doesn’t have one face. There is no exact way one should handle it. Or look while going through it. And because I am not guaranteed tomorrow, I’m going to live, today. While I can. Because there will come the day that chemo kicks my butt. And on those days I will have to take a back seat while life around me goes on. So I’m stating for the record, I am fighting to save my life. Every single minute of the day. I am one of the many faces of what cancer looks like. My battle may not be what one envisions but it is how I choose to fight.  I choose to live my life to the fullest while I fight. I choose to have a smile on my face while I cry on the inside. And I choose to cling to every good day I have. I choose to stay positive, even if that means to some that I “don’t look sick”. 

Fine print for those who have supported me on this crazy road: Over the last month I have been overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support in this journey. As I have stated many times before, I literally could not do this without each and every single person who has stepped up and reached out to offer prayers, encouragement, a shoulder to cry on, a simple hug with no words need, meals, groceries, gifts, donations!!! The list could truly go on forever. Strangers, friends and family. To all of you I say thank you. Thank you for standing by me and fighting with me.