‘‘Twas the night before chemo...

You know when you are driving down the road, and you carelessly pass a cop that you didn’t see until it was too late? They pull out behind you, flip on their lights and instantly with the sound of the siren, your heart sinks. Doesn’t matter if it is the first time you’ve been pulled over or if you’re driving on a suspended license. Every single time no matter the circumstances your heart rate goes up a bit, palms get sweaty, and if you’re anything like me, instantly want to throw up and cry at the same time. Mostly because of the anticipation of what is going to happen. What if he clocked you going faster than you even knew you were going? What if he asks you to say the alphabet backwards even though you are stone sober? I have a heavy foot. I practice the backwards alphabet just for the off chance that the occasion occurs! ((It is literally impossible)) Are you going to get a ticket? Are you going to get off with a warning? You just don’t know. And the anticipation is what gets to you the most. 

So imagine that feeling... that will explain exactly how I have felt all weekend, knowing Tuesday was coming.  Anxious, fearful, and clueless. 

I know I will have okay days in this journey. I hope I have good days. But it’s factual that I will have really hard and really bad days too. In efforts to focus my energy into something besides what I am getting ready to endure I treated this weekend as my last  weekend. Not “last” in the sense that I’m going to pass away (I sincerely tried to think of a less horrible way of putting that for an hour)). But “last” in the sense that I have NO IDEA what to expect out of the upcoming months. And if there’s the possibility that a lot of my future days will be no good, very bad days, I wanted to have the best, normal weekend before it all comes crashing in. 

So I slapped a smile on my face, that in most cases was sincere. I spent quality time with my family.  I visited with several friends. I celebrated Halloween with my son just incase I will be unable to next week. Waited in line for 40 minutes to eat a Krispy Kreme donut hot off the line; No judgements, the truth is, I ate two. 

Took Raylan to the park and ate the best meatloaf ever made ((Thank you Uncle Wayne)) in fear it will soon taste like metal. Then to finish with a bang, spent my Sunday night having a little F Chemo party. 

Of course, lingering in the back of me head, is the anxiety about starting treatment. Pumping my body full of poison. Making myself sick to cure me of my illness. Panicked at the thought that I could leave my son motherless. That I could inflict early widowhood on my sweet husband. Who wouldn’t have those feelings in this scenario? But what I’m not going to do is let those negative emotions and feelings get the best of me. I won’t allow them to take over, the way my addiction to Diet Coke did. 

Tomorrow is when the actual fight will begin. And going into battle is something that I’m clueless about how to prepare for. 

Maybe I will be one of those people who stay sick all week. Or maybe I will just rock it out and be back to my normal-ish self in a day! It’s possible! I am pretty bad ass these days. The unknown of the situation is enough to make anyone fearful. 

Going into tomorrow, my first day of Chemotherapy , I have so many emotions. Fear and panic are taking the lead but coming around the corner taking a huge leap is faith. Because without it, without a strong positive attitude that the sickness I’m about to endure is to give me a long healthy life with my family, I’m going to crumble. And I’m not going to let that happen. I have many more normal-ish weekends with Tyler and Raylan to be had in the future. 

So wish me luck! I’ve been called to war. I’m going to suit up and enter that treatment room, ready to fight like a girl!