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Treatment begins

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.
Today is the day I begin, at last, treatment.
Today is the day I begin to kick cancer's ass.
Today is the day I start infusing ugly, nasty, side-affect laden, toxic chemicals for the greater good.
Today is a day that I wish I could rewrite the script for completely deleting the part requiring me to need breast cancer chemo.

And yet, here it is and at 1:15 EST I will be at the Cancer & Hematology Center in Holland. It's where I will be a lot for the next five months. It's where I will, I'm sure (and surety is something I have less of these days as I know not how I will respond to chemo), create new friendships and forge bonds with people that I am currently unfamiliar. Because that's who I am; a lover of people and a woman that wants to know and love on all the people she comes to meet. 

I don't know why I have breast cancer but someday I will ask God (along with a whole bunch of other questions!). I do believe to my deepest core, however, that being the Pollyanna, people-loving person that I am, that I can be an example of strength and hope. That is my prayer, at least, to remain steadfast in positivity and faith so that others may witness. Because, I also believe, that God has this and has put the care team in place to kick cancer's ass.

It doesn't mean I'm not a little nervous or even afraid, it's the great unknown after all, it just means that I won't rest in that fear because that doesn't do me or anyone any good.

So today I don my imaginary boxing gloves (cue the Rocky theme song) and my very real smile and my deepest faith to begin the fight of my life. And if you're a betting kind (Kris, I know you're reading this!!), I'd place all your money in my corner - because that's where God is!

Can I get an Amen???

Comments

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

When an ass is so much more

  Body image. Body positivity.  Or about coming to an appreciation for a previously much maligned back end.  In junior high (that's middle school for all of you non boomers), I was given the nickname "big butt Bowen". It was a nickname that stung because I did indeed have a large ass. I tried to mask it, a difficult endeavor since the current fashion (and remember this is junior high when fitting in was paramount) was wearing hip hugger jeans with midriff tops and my disguise of choice were peasant blouses or dresses. That style choice earned an additional nickname, Mama Cass. For those of you that don't know who Mama Cass was, she was part of the Mamas and Papas and known for her beautiful voice but also for her large body.  All about Mama Cass I was cruelly nicknamed at a time when nicknames can really mess with a girl's psyche. And I spent a lifetime as that girl with the messed up psyche. I'm sure there are more than one of you out there that can relate. B

Peter Pan no more

                          It's time. Peter Pan had to grow up.  For nearly 18 months of his life, Matthew dressed in this costume. In this picture it's new, just out of the box. He picked the costume out of a catalog and when it arrived, two weeks prior to Halloween, he asked daily if today was the day he could finally wear his Peter Pan costume. He didn't like the hat and only wore it on Halloween, but the rest of the costume he wore daily! You read that correctly - DAILY. He wore it to Meijer (for those of you unfamiliar with Meijer, it's a cleaner, friendlier, more 'upscale' version of WalMart), to church, to play dates and preschool ... Heck, he was three and adorable and it worked for him!  (Yes you read that correctly, he even wore it to church on one or two occasions when it seemed arguing with a three year old about not wearing a costume to church was not a battle worth waging. He once mentioned the priests wore dresses . . . I don't think Joh

Cabin fever made me do it!

Like nearly ever person in West Michigan, I have a serious case of cabin fever.  I won't waste your time however, complaining about the two-hundred feet of snow that's fallen in the last two hours. I won't share about the twenty or thirty times I've had to shovel my walk today as gusts blew it right back in my face. And I certainly will not lament about the temperatures that hover around negative double digits making your nostrils freeze together within moments of stepping outside. To bore you with tales of how we have to shovel areas in our yard so that our large dog and can do his 'duty' because the snow is deeper than he is tall and dogs for whatever reason cannot poop in the same place twice, is not what I will share. You will not hear about how when I open the slider to let aforementioned dog outside, gusts of wind blow drifts of snow inside and require a shovel to once again close the door.  Nor will I share how some roads around here are drifted shut be