Moms Don’t Get Sick

When I made this blog, I was days away from my first chemotherapy session and I had no idea what was in store for me. I had conceived myself that I was super human and wouldn’t be affected by the lifesaving, yet poison like, medical concoction. I tend to be over confident in my abilities and figure out much later I may have underestimated what I’m up against. In short, chemo kicked my ass. It would continue to kick my ass four more times. Now as I’m slowly leaving the worse of the symptoms from my second to last round, my head is filled with the “what’s next”.

I have to be completely honest with you…I’m scared.

This diagnosis came so fast that I never really had a chance to be afraid. I was just counting down each round of chemo. Now that I’ve talked over the double mastectomy with a surgeon, scheduled my final body CT, and met with the radiation oncologist this is no longer how many rounds are left but what I will be living with for the rest of my life.

My self care before cancer was a 30 second teeth brushing with a kid yelling for something, a splash of water on my face, and an anxiety pill before bed to keep me from wondering in the yard naked. Now that is all going to change. I will have biyearly ct scans, immunotherapy treatments, living with a flat chest or waiting for reconstruction when it becomes an option. I may have a cough and a small voice will say “that’s it. It’s the cancer. It’s back” or a swollen lymph node and panic till I’m seen by my oncologist. I will watch my girls grow up and some part of me will be holding my breath hoping I didn’t set them up for the same terrible experience I’ve had.

Before being the one with cancer, I always heard remission and thought “I bet they’re glad that’s over” but it’s only just the beginning. The nausea, fatigue, mouth sores, headaches, and to get a little too real…the diarrhea was a speed bump in my life with cancer. I’m scared that no matter how hard I fight or how healthy I try to be, it won’t be enough. I already pick at the thought of “was this caused by something I did? Should I not have breastfed? Should I have eaten better?”. What if my fight isn’t enough?

I’m sure you all read that and immediately said “oh don’t say that!” but unfortunately my brain says it without thinking. I believe I can live a long, beautiful life after this but the what if’s are scary. I know breasts don’t make me the strong, independent, brilliant, and beautiful woman I am. But, when I am completely flat chested I know it will probably take a toll on my mental health to stand in front of the mirror and see what the cancer has taken from me. I’ll be bald, boobless, and during radiation sunburned to put the cherry on top. Not my hottest moment.

All I can say is this is my reality. I am strong but I still have my moments where I crack and that’s okay. Thankfully I have my amazing husband, who thank god is a butt guy, to hold my head up for me when I think I can’t. Now if I get butt cancer, I’m really throwing in the towel.

To the women who find this blog going through your own journey know that you’re not alone. I’m scared but I refuse to make it stop me from doing what I need to do. At the end of the day, I would gladly live out my life as a worm if it meant I got to watch my babies grow, my husband turn grey, and our lives continue to be everything we’ve worked so hard for.

Cancer is a part of my life now but I am trying not to make it my entire life. It’s a stubborn thing to beat but I’m the hard headed only daughter from a long line of heated Irish men. It picked the wrong girl.