I would like my eyelashes back now, please....

So here I sit at rock bottom of the chemo journey, which is also, of course, the turning point.  After 4 months of dose-dense AC-T chemo, my body has literally taken all they thought I could. This was the planned target, the spot at which the potential damage to cancer would be maximized without actually taking me out with it.  That's the whole chemo concept, at least when treating aggressively for a cure with a cancer as aggressive and advanced as mine.

So here I lie on the couch, Butters sleeping on my stomach, contemplating the damage done (to the cancer, we hope) and to this poor 46-year old body of mine.  There is much  work to be done in the healing department. I am feeling better about the persistent ache and weakness in my back and legs since my case manager told me it's most likely my bone marrow, even without the neulasta injection, working to replace white blood cells.  Since my cell counts never got too low, my hope is it will be short-lived.

Just think of all the work my body has to do now.  A whole head of hair to grow back, an entire body of hair, actually.  Not to mention all those eyelashes.  Heart cells, lung cells, hemoglobin (oh, to climb stairs without sucking wind at the top!). And on and on.  And then there will be surgery and radiation to get through.

When I think of all that, I realize I am going to have to be something I'm not know for...patient!  So, over the past two days, I've been consciously focussing on simply being, resting, and breathing.  When I find myself feeling that I should be DOing something active, I try to let that go and find a space in my head that feels no need to justify itself.  Who knows if it's helping me heal, but it feels much better than being frustrated, or dragging myself around feeling terrible.  In fact, as I lie here simply being, I feel these rushes (probably endorphins) of well-being, contentment and strength. It feels like healing, and like hope.

A quick note of thanks to all of you who commented on Facebook when I decided to wail in frustration the other night. If you are hurting, as I was, it is a great comfort to not be alone.  All the good wishes and encouragement were a balm to my wounded soul. Stumnbling in a dark place, I called out and found myself surrounded by candles, flickering with compassion and caring.  Got me out of the dark much quicker.  How good to know we don't  always have to provide our own light.  Thanks for being there.