My heart will go on.

Picture this: you go to the movies. You pick your seat, the lights dim and you watch the previews for future films you’d maybe like to see. The movie that you’ve anxiously been waiting to see starts and the opening scene, with the dramatic soundtrack has you engulfed in the story within minutes. You laugh, you cry. You fall in love with characters. There’s a beginning, a middle and an end. Then the screen goes black and the credits roll. You experienced emotions of laughter and sadness. And then just like that, it’s over. You pick up your leftover popcorn and raisinets  and you exit the theatre. Going on about your night, your week, your month and so forth. Forgetting everything that you experienced in that short time frame that you were sitting  in the theatre watching said movie. 

In my experience thus far, battling cancer is like watching a full length motion picture. In my case it feels longer then the movie Titanic...with no bathroom breaks. 

Just when I think it’s over, and my life will be  as it was before this tragic movie started...Jack and Rose are sill floating on that damn door, and the old lady has yet to throw the necklace in the ocean.

In an update: I’ve been in  Radiation treatments for the last 4 days. Only 26 more to go! Physically my body is healing faster from surgery than I would have imagined. Mentally however, has been more of a struggle than I thought it would be.  I find myself feeling emotionally weak in moments that I also feel anger. Frustration that my clothes don’t fit the same, or sadness that my favorite cross body purse accentuates the lumps on my chest. Insecurity that people are as repulsed by my boyish figure as I am and fear that I’m living this nightmare now with the anticipation of a sequel. While most of that sounds shallow and like it should be the least of my worries, my current physical appearance is a constant reminder of the sickness and the fight I’ve endured.  So now when I am in the dressing room trying on shirts that I normally wouldn’t have picked out for myself, but are the only ones that cover my scars and radiation stickers, or are baggy enough to not show the golfball looking lumps across my chest, and the reflection in the mirror has no resemblance of the person I was 8 months ago... I get a little sad. And angry. These were all emotions I expected to feel. But I thought that I was mentally strong enough to handle them. Turns out, there actually IS something that can put a damper on this positive ray of sunshine.

Meanwhile, as I stated above, expecting the end credits to roll after my mastectomy and radiation, for this awful film that got a 0%-0 star rating on Rotten Tomatoes... I was unpleasantly surprised when I was told that my battle would be continuing for at least another 6 months. It felt like that moment when another Halloween movie comes out and you think... “But how?!” Because Michael Myers was supposed to be dead. Pathology results from surgery came back, and it has given me joy, confusion, and disappointment all at the same time. (Coincidentally, also like the movie Titanic). Joy because my 4 tumors (yep. I said 4. One was hiding this whole time. Sneaky little booger) were removed with clean margins. Meaning there was enough tissue around the tumors for them to be certain that they removed the entire tumor without leaving any behind. When the tumors were removed, they were still live and growing. Which ultimately means that I did not have a complete response to chemotherapy. There was a 63% shrinkage in my largest tumor. Because of this, as an insurance plan to ensure that we get any other live cancer cells that may be undetected throughout my body, I will be taking oral chemotherapy for the next 6 months starting May 24. Insert disappointment.  And what I find to be the most daunting of it all is the confusion. Confusion that comes from knowing how hard I have fought. How much I’ve given to ensure that I would succeed and come out on top waving the white flag. And it still wasnt enough. Not only was it not enough but now I have to give even more. And I’m tired. I’m tired and I feel defeated. I was ready for my movie to be over. To go about my day, my week, my month...my life, and make what I had just experienced a distant memory. 

What I have to do now is recharge myself. Take that bathroom break, get a popcorn refill and get back in the theatre so that I don’t miss anything. Because if I miss any part of this feature, there’s a chance that there may be a sequel with a not so happy ending. And I’m okay with this being a one hit wonder.