Let's Make a Bargain

I don't know what inspiration looks like, but it surely wasn't me this morning. Muscle and stomach cramps at 3am leading to nausea and tears, all before my brain even has a chance to wake up. Ugh.

My last round of chemo was emotionally much easier for me this time, but has been sneakily taking it's toll on me. I'm so ready to feel "normal" again. As normal as I possibly can feel for a woman going through something like this. I just miss having my energy and non-stop-always-need-to-be-creating bug back. That little bug is stuck in the cage in the photo below.

It's difficult to explain how I've been feeling. I have this unsettled restlessness inside me. My mind is always running and my body is extremely tired and achy. After a chemo treatment, you are very quickly tired, and light headed. Then comes the muscle fatigue and aching bones. I am only 31 years old, and this stuff turns you into an 83 year old wilting woman very quickly.

Being the bargain taker I am, I had to ask my oncologist..... What is all of this getting me? Me, my age, my kind of cancer, the treatments I am putting my body through......what are my chances of recurrence?  Dr A, let's call her is this tiny petite Indian American little thing that looks straight out of a JCrew catalog.  I like her because I've always felt like she was going to win this for me. She treated cancer like a bump in the road, and not my eternal path. She quickly answers me, 30% recurrence without treatment and 15% recurrence with chemo treatment.

So that's like a 15% off coupon.

Even though this has been incredibly tough, I know I will get through this. My "coupons" might carry a heavy load right now but will be worth it later.

So, I don't think this was very inspiring still. But I'm fighting. I'm trying.

You Have A Choice

I was driving to work this morning rocking out to Made In Heights. A soft spoken chill Euro-pop group I've been diggin' lately. Believe it or not, I come up with most of my great shit when my stereo is blasting my eardrums at 12.  Drowning out the sound of the world and nagging worries.

As you can imagine, I've had a roller coaster of emotions this past month. I have fallen apart. Completely. But only alone. I can't bear the thought of seeing my family, seeing me, and hurting all over again because of dumb cancer. Some days I ask, "Why Me?". I am grateful, I am loving, I am happy with my life. So....."Why Me?". And then I get pissed off.

I slowly pull up to a stop light and see two ladies waiting a bus, standing in the hot Summer sun. One of the ladies catches my attention. She is in her 50's, with weathered skin, her scraggly long hair pulled back. She is wearing a stained  T shirt, rolled up men's jeans and dirty flip flops. She angrily sucks a drag from her cigarette and squints down the road, peering for the bus. She looks hard. Mean.

Some of you may think I'm about to judge this woman. But instead,  I'm reading her. And in turn, learning from her.

No doubt she has been through a lot in her lifetime. Hardships and lessons that has shaped who she is today.

I've been going through the motions of Doctor appointments, advice, and opinions. Some constructive and some not worth a blink. I've been feeling like life was living me. I was not living life. If I want to live I have no choice but to have surgeries, chemo and radiation in my future.
 But I DO have the choice to decide who I will become because of this diagnosis.

Cancer has already changed me. And I feel myself changing everyday. I want to inspire. I want to create. I want to make connections. I want to love. And most of all, I want to be fearless.

And for that.  I am grateful.

Artwork By Liz Huston.
Love her! Some day I hope to own a piece!

Quiet Company

Lately, I have been feeling quite lonely. I find myself searching for temporary distractions to fill the void where a sweetness once lived. The hard part is not then, but it is now.

Everyone has experienced some kind of loss in their lives. So why do we separate? Why do we feel like no one understands? Why do we feel hopeless? Sometimes I am not sure anyone can actually answer these questions, yet we can all agree we have felt this way at one point or another. So I find myself looking for momentum and inspiration from my surroundings.

I look out my window to the drippy white birch tree and see a tattered spider web, glistening in the sunlight. I can't help but think of all of the time and precious energy this tiny being put into making the most perfectly symmetrical creation of survival. Then I wonder, how many times was this poor creature's web destroyed by the harsh elements of an ever changing world? Yet she keeps building. But this time she might spin her weave a little tighter, build a little higher. And ultimately, her world will be stronger than it was before.

Sometimes the answers to our difficult questions are all around us.They are delicate. They are quiet. But it just takes a little sunlight to illuminate them.

Love is the Only Thing

I'm sitting in our living room right now staring out beyond the tree line along the riverbank. Everything is incredibly soggy and wet outside from the rain and winds of yesterday. Part of me feels so empty and hollow, but then a little bit of sunlight begins to peek through the dripping trees, illuminating the tiny dewdrops. Part of me finds comfort in the promise of change. The hope that the days to come will be easier than this last year, and maybe they will be kind to my heart. I hope.

Many didn't know of Charlie's condition. Early April 2014 he began suffering from full grand mal seizures. Witnessing someone you love in the throws of a violent seizure is the most painful thing I've ever been through. As the onlooker, you are completely helpless until the seizure decides to stop. Thrashing, kicking, choking, and loss of complete consciousness.  I wouldn't wish any part of this illness upon anyone.

We began seeing many veterinarians  all of which had different opinions as to what was happening with my Charlie from severe allergies, epilepsy, to brain cancer. It was not until we reached out to a neurologist for treatment that she came to the conclusion that it was in fact a tumor and/or brain cancer he was suffering from. The meds she prescribed helped sweet Charlie go from 12 seizures in a two day period to roughly 2-3. We were able to manage his condition, but never control it.

It was heartbreaking to see that the medications that were prescribed to help him would eventually make him even more sick. Prednisone, a steroid used to take down the swelling in his brain was the one drug that gave us more time with him, but was also the one that was the most harsh. The steroid began eating away at Charlie's muscle mass, causing his tiny body to thin and weaken. He also began showing signs of dementia and internal bleeding. The emergency meds we were given began to become ineffective and I knew our window of time together was getting shorter and shorter.

January 7th, 2015 I had to make a decision I never should have had to make. But as his guardian, I knew there was nothing left on this earth that I could do to fix this. The saying "Let go, and Let God" finally made sense to me. When you have exhausted every option ,every emotion, and even exhausted the very one you love. You let go, and let God.

There is much beyond our control. There is so much that doesn't make sense. There is so much that seems so fucking unfair. But there is an incredible amount of beauty in this world and I am grateful that Charlie wanted to share a little with me. People that do not understand the connection to an animal are missing out on so much of what this life can bring. Pure, sweet, unconditional love.

I thought that losing him would make me bitter and full of anger. Instead, this has made me grow up, love deeply, show more compassion, and not be afraid anymore. I see how fragile life is. It truly is a gift and I am eternally grateful for the love I was given.

I never said goodbye to my sweet Charlie. You never lose the things you love, because love is the only thing that keeps us all connected.

In Memory of my sweet Charlie.

April 4, 2005- January 7,2015