Dry Shampoo and Coffee

It’s Saturday morning and as I sit with coffee in hand, my mind is still on a reel from the past several weeks. The only thing that keeps coming to my mind is “How did I do that?” This month comes in, in at least the top three most stressful eras I have faced. I teach at what is considered a satellite campus for the district. The first week of school was a MONSTER. Did I mention the internet being down and parents impatiently making requests for registration that I could not grant and administrators frantically demanding paper work?  As a PreK teacher the first day is very chaotic and stressful as there are tears and often blood curdling screams from students and sometimes parents, who are emotional leaving their babies for the first time. This year was no different. Thankfully by day two internet had been restored and we were able to continue with enrollment (notice I said enrollment and not teaching…somehow I was expected to do both. I’m good but not that good). The building had flooded two weeks prior, so we had gotten in with JUST enough time to set up. Documents were damaged in the flood and paper work was missing that had to be redone for registration. I have many English language learners and really cannot explain to you how extremely stressful it is to walk refugee parents with limited language, through online registration. Yet, all of the above, oddly enough, are reasons I love my job. I love the population I serve in a Title 1 program. My heart is there. It thrives there. In the midst of the crazy and the stress, I was beginning to feel like me again. Not the cancer patient. Not that one teacher who had cancer and was out last spring. But me. The old me.'

In the middle of first week chaos, I had an oncology follow-up and results from the biopsies taken the week prior. Unfortunately, the news was not good. Cancer remains. Right now the treatment will be surgery and depending on how surgery goes maybe another round of chemotherapy. My heart is so thankful for an oncologist who will sit and talk to me. Who will shoot straight with me, who I feel has my best interest at heart. I am beyond thankful for a plan forward. I trust her with my very life.

Yet…I am so sick of being sick. Wasn’t I JUST starting to gain some energy? Wasn’t I JUST feeling like me again? And now major surgery?? I am tired of this. I long for normalcy, but I don’t even know what that is. I was looking through photos last night and can’t even pinpoint when things changed. I can kind of get it within a few months, but not really. Part of me wants things to go back to how it was before cancer, but I know I never can. And would I really choose that anyway?  I am not the same person. I don’t even feel like I look like the same woman and on a realistic note, it has aged the hell out of me. Inside, I am changed beyond what I can fully explain. Perspective shift is an understatement. I see absolutely nothing the way I did before. Nothing. Even the, “Oh wait, you still have cancer” thing looks and feels completely different on this side.  Before, cancer was unknown. I didn’t even want to say the word. I was completely fearful, and unsure. I am still those things to an extent, but it feels more familiar. I have been around it a lot, which is the part that makes me feel comfortable yet afraid because I have watched with my eyes what it can do. The fact that mine is still hanging around is unnerving and yes, I am afraid. Yet there IS a plan forward and reasons to be thankful.

Which leads me to lay out the constant conversation I have been having with myself the past few weeks….Can you be afraid and unsettled YET still thankful there is a plan? Can you admit fear and still have faith in the One who holds your very life? Can you admit your weakness, weariness, and frustration and STILL be thankful there is a plan forward in treatment? 

Every single one of those feels like they are in opposition to one another but I feel every single one of those-at any given moment. At any point during my recent days I have been on the verge of either tears of fatigue, tears of fear, tears of frustration, tears of thankfulness and humility, OR cursing out of frustration because people want to either act like I’m their hero (which can feel very uncomfortable) OR like NOTHING has happened, or cursing out of frustration that I have been feeling more like me and now I am getting my legs kicked in again. Now, you tell me….does THAT sound like someone who trusts in God’s plan for her life? Does that look like someone who has it together and is holding fast to her faith?

How beautiful and amazing, that the answer to those questions is a big fat NO…..yet a big fat YES at the same time? See, God is showing me that admitting my weakness is actually strength. Y’all, I’m talking about the kind of weakness where you cry out in tears, throw up your hands, and yell out some F bombs because you got nothing. I’m talking about admitting that you are terrified that cancer will not ever fully go away and you’re bound to a life of treatment. I’m talking about admitting that you don’t understand why God chose you to carry this burden, even if just for a season. I’m talking about weakness, where you say “I’m confused by God’s choice for ME to not have biological kids, but I see first-hand, every day, selfish adults who appear to be baby factories.” I’m talking about asking God why He asked me to do this for a little bit longer.

The beauty of it is that when our hearts get to that point and we are stripped naked with nothing left to hold on to-and we admit out weakness, we have a choice. We can either continue to wallow in those questions and live in limbo and anger OR we can choose to lay them at the feet of the One who made us. Think about it. He made me. He knows I am pissed. He knows I am scared and afraid. He knows I am wondering how in the world He will redeem this? The absolute beauty of the gospel is that I can be honest with Him, He can hold me in my weakness and that I am may NEVER understand any of this….but He will hold me. AND in my weakness, I may crawl out of His lap several times a day, thinking “I got this” “I can do this now”….. and when I finally start seeing how very much “I don’t have it” and how “I can’t do it, “ He scoops me right back up and I bury my head in His lap and weep.

The truth is, I am no one’s hero. I am weak. I do not have it together in any way. I just admitted to you that I am basically on the verge of either tears or cursing, at any given moment. I am not “doing great” and I feel like I hobble home every day and hobble around my house and then fall into bed. I really am mostly dry shampoo and coffee.

The only thing I know for sure, is that my heart desires to stay in His lap. I fail miserably at this daily, sometime multiple times. Maybe you do too? Is that okay? Does that make your faith weak? Does asking questions make you weak? I have personally never felt so close to God than I do now. It’s funny how that is. I have not been able to attend church regularly since February, I have said more F bombs in the last 8 months than I ever have in my life, I am admitting that there is a lot I do not understand and a lot that I want to go away, I am admitting that I am weak and want this cup to pass, and yet….He is with me. Daily I feel Him more than ever. As I hobble around my life, every moment I am aware of His presence and that only by His provision and goodness, am I here. He is here.

A flower I found on a walk this week.

Luna keeping me company after biopsy surgery.

Choices.

Everyone says they want real. They want authentic. I always hear people complaining that social media is a highlight reel and causes us to compare ourselves with one another’s best. When in reality, we never show the double chins, kids screaming, dinner fails, fights caused by miscommunication, piles of laundry, muffin tops, messy living rooms….you know, all the “real stuff.” Wouldn’t it be great if we had a day for this?? I mean just one DAY! Everything else gets a day (I mean, really not sure when that started happening, but we even have National Cat Day. Seriously?). On this day we could all post pictures of our failures, bad hair days, pictures from the worst angles, fights with our loved ones, you get the idea. I seriously think this needs to happen. #reallife

Anyway, today I want to be real. I try my best to be honest and authentic with people, BUT I often don’t tell the whole story of what may be happening-as to avoid over sharing or just saving face (Hey, I’m a southern girl, we are the BEST at this).

Today I’m avoiding. Actually I’ve been avoiding for several weeks. After chemo and radiation, I found myself not knowing what to do in the day to day. For two months, my job was to get out of bed and go to treatment, take my medication, and drink ALL of my water. That was what I was to do. I knew I needed to go to bed at a decent hour because the next morning, I had to get up and make sure there was time to eat breakfast/have coffee and drink enough water before my radiation appointment. I found myself looking forward to going to the cancer center every day. I live alone and it gets lonely. I have amazing friends who were constantly in touch, but it was hard and still is. Going to the Center was awesome because not only did I get to socialize, everyone there understood me. I didn’t have to explain that my hair was oily because I could not bear the thought of washing it-getting out of bed was all I could do that day. I didn’t have to explain anything because cancer was everywhere and it felt like home.

Port Surgery

Last day of chemo

Radiation Crew for Internal/External Treatments

Now, I am done and hopefully forever. While most people would be looking forward to going back to work in a couple of weeks, I am a teacher and summer break starts in a few days. I am so happy that means that I get paid and really do get a significant time to recover. However, I am struggling. The day to day is hard. Finding purpose is hard. I have started back running, but man….it is a challenge and totally sucks right now. I keep at it, because I want to get back to the fitness level I was before all of this crashed into my life. I want to hang out with people, but at the same time I get so frustrated sometimes, even with those close to me. I want to talk about cancer all the time, but I never want to talk about cancer. (Makes so much sense, right?) I start feeling like no one understands and I begin to withdraw. People don’t understand that just because treatment is done, that I am not fine. Am I alive?? Yes. But y’all let me tell you what dealing with the aftermath of a cervical cancer diagnosis looks like: it looks like dealing with radiation side effects that I will live with including but not limited to infertility, fatigue so great that you have to fight  your way through normal activities, guilt and joy of having hair, guilt and joy that your treatment seemed to work, having a renewed sense of joy for life BUT being seriously paralyzed from the trauma you just went through, and of course the lingering sting of having cervical cancer and the scarlet “A” that comes with it.

So, if I am being real-like everyone wants, I struggle with avoiding. A very practical example: The hospital bills have started to pile up (literal piles)and I need to start writing checks, look at money for the next couple of months, and get started on those. BUT I avoid. It's overwhelming-the pile is overwhelming, the financial end is overwhelming. In my head, I know what to do. BUT I avoid.

And avoiding makes me feel guilty.

So, I am choosing to consciously make choices that are good for me, in hopes that those will spill over into other tasks-like not procrastinating medical bills. The running is good for me. Making myself go to lunch with friends, is good for me. Eating healthy is good for me. Stretching out weekly errands so there is somewhere to go every day and continuing to see my wonderfully awesome counselor, Tiffany. These are good things, that are helpful and make a difference. 

First post treatment run. Hardest run of my life.

But see, I have to choose these things. I have to constantly be aware and choose the best thing, even if it sucks. I think we always have to choose, it’s just some seasons are so great we don’t even have to think about it. It’s second nature to look at something, acknowledge its difficulty, and tackle it. And some seasons are so hard that we are aware of every choice, every breath, every move. If I’m real, I mess up a lot and don’t choose the best thing, BUT I’m learning to have grace with myself-like I do with people I love and care about. I’m learning to talk to myself like someone I love. I’m learning that I am enough-even when I’m not. I’m choosing to see the cup half full and embrace the new normal after cancer. I’m getting to know this new girl. Me.