It’s been 12 days since the first chemo session and I am back to feeling like myself. Days 1-6 were unpleasant* but since then I have steadily been feeling better and more like normal Arielle. I go back for the next round of chemo next Thursday (June 2) but until then I am doing my best to enjoy the good feelings and the hair on my head (don’t be fooled, I won’t actually do anything to enjoy my hair, maybe I should give it an old school V05 Hot Oil treatment as a parting gift).
Although I feel more and more like normal Arielle between treatments I am also realizing that normal life means something different today than it did less than 3 months ago. Normal things then included:
- Wearing a bra
- Going to work everyday
- Planning our wedding
- Working out a bunch of days a week
- Getting ready for ball season
- Complaining about my boobs
Today’s normal includes:
- Only wearing a sports bra if my weird chicken cutlets are going to poke out the arm holes of a tank top
- Thinking about work, visiting work, texting people from work but not actually working.
- Re-resolving to lose weight for our postponed 2017 wedding
- Figuring out what my body can and can’t do at the gym 8 weeks post surgery and during chemo (when not feeling like I am going to retch on other gym-goers)
- Pacing up and down the sidelines watching my team play ball
- Complaining about the area under my boobs that I couldn’t really see before.
- Chemo treatments and doctors appointments
- Buying and eating Gravol like Pez.
I lived the “before normal” for so long and now I look back and some days it seems like that was ages ago, other days it feels like yesterday. I was upset for our life to flip upside down and for my normal to suddenly be something I didn’t recognize, but at the end of the day, normal is fluid. All of this stuff right now is hard, messy and some days it’s super shittykaka but I also know it’s temporary and a year from now our normal will look a little more normal.
*Unpleasant = day 1 throwing up, 24-7 nausea, the inability to focus for long periods of time and enough acid reflux to make me wonder if I am actually a 70 year old Italian man that can’t handle the spicy sausage anymore.