Renee In Cancerland - book snippet

Sad with regret

Today while I was sitting at the oncologist waiting to be called back for my blood work I glanced over and observed a young women breast feeding her daughter in the waiting area.

It was bitter sweet moment for me.

I loved seeing this mother care for her child like this, but it also made me so sad.

So sad for so many reasons.

Sad with regret.

Breast feeding didn’t go as I had planned with Ian.  It was hard, and I wonder if I gave up too easily.

I was able to give him breast milk for 4 months but it took a lot of work. It was a daily challenge for me.

And at the time, it was just easier for me to pump and let Eric help with the night feedings. I had always said, with number two, I will try harder and not give up as easily.

But it hit me today, what if I don’t get a second chance?

What if I don’t get to make right all these decisions I made then?

What if I don’t get a number 2?

My heart broke as I sat there and mourned for the loss of what might never be.

But, that is a reminder for me today, tomorrow and all the days after, never say, I will do “it” next time. I have to do it this time because I might not have a next time.

A Fine line

I have noticed I walk a fine line.

A very fine line.

Between feeling great and doing too much and being exhausted.

I felt fantastic this morning and went over to help a friend make birth announcements, and to hold her sweet little babies.
I got home around 3:00 and totally crashed.

It is so aggravating to me to feel so good but not be able to do what I normally do.

I know I am on chemo treatment, but I don’t feel “sick”.

It is really hard for me to wrap my head around me being this tired. There are so many things I enjoy doing and want to do a little of everyday. But I literally can’t or I will crash and burn.

So here I am, like a zombie robot.

My body hurts from being tired.

I am trying not to beat myself up for being so tired when my boys get home, for me not unloading the dishwasher, for the pile of laundry sitting on the couch and all the other things I think I should be doing.

All at the same time, I am trying to understand this invisible line that seems to move up and down all the time.

That line.

That line that when I do cross over it, all the plates that I have piled up topple over and crash to the ground.

I will inevitably cross this line again during this whole treatment process because I am stubborn. I don’t learn things the first time around.  And I think I can do the same thing and somehow change the outcome. I need to understand the outcome will be the same if I push too hard. 

______________________________________

My book, "Renee In Cancerland" is at the printers!!!

I might have the eBook in a week or so?!?

I can say this is all very surreal to me.

I have started many large projects before but have never actually finished one - I guess in all honesty I have been scared...what if all the work I did doesn't matter to anyone else but me?

Today vs Yesterday

I don’t know why I am still completely floored when I have an “episode” of head/body issues. 

I had an episode that started on Thursday night and it is still lingering today.

Thursday night I started to feel foggy in my head. I thought it was something in the air because it was 80 on day, then a wind storm the next, cold the next…the weather has been all over the place.

And yes, I am one of those who is effected badly by the crazy Austin weather.

I went to bed early on Thursday night hoping I just needed a little more sleep.

Friday morning the first signs of a migraine started, and I thought I could sleep it off.  After Ian left for school, I went back to bed to close my eyes…I woke up 2 hours later feeling worse.

I was getting panicky because I had SO much I wanted to be at this weekend: my friend’s memorial service, my nephew’s baptism and another friend’s remembrance ceremony.  

Yes, I have had 2 really good friends pass away in the past 3 weeks.

Friday after Eric got home, I crumbled…I think I was holding it all together to make it through this weekend and I couldn't do it anymore.

I was in bed all day Saturday…missed Janelle’s service.

I knew driving to Fort Worth wasn't going to happen without major repercussions for me feeling even worse after it was all said and done…missed my nephew’s baptism.

Sunday I thought for a ½ of second since I wasn't able to go out of town, I would be able to make it to a get together Genae…I wasn't.

I feel like I failed so many people this weekend.

Other girls who are in active treatment were able to make it.

So yes, I feel sorry for myself. I feel sorry for myself in terms of all the crap I am not physically able to do….or if I do them, I am laid up for an unknown about of time.

I know we are all different, I know I have been at this for over 5 years when I add up all the time I have been on some sort of active treatment but I am tired of being tired.

I am tired of feeling queasy if I don’t eat at the exact right time before I take my chemo.

I am tired of not being able to walk far due to my numb leg.

I am tired of not being able to walk up and down stairs without having to hold on to the side so tightly I am sure if I did fall it would come with me.

I am tired of assuming others look at me and wonder what my problem is because after all, I do look fine.

I am tired of going down the dark hole every so often like I seem to do.

I don’t what starts down the dark path because it is different every time.

This time it was 2 friends dying.  

I have to figure out another way to get my emotions out before they bubble over like this…but how? I hate talk therapy…I might need group therapy? I need something soon.

____________________________________________________

Tuesday, Feb 24

Here I am today…after a great sleep, more tears, lots of talking with Eric and I feel myself walking out of the fog that has been hanging around.

I slept on and off all day yesterday.

I broke down and told my other cancer girls about me feeling so blah.

I told my mom about a small fight.

I stopped trying to hide my fear about me thinking my tiredness could possibly be another brain tumor.

I admitted just how numb my leg and arm were.

I laid it all out on the table and I feel better for it.

Today I get that my health is like nobody else’s – even my cancer friends are different than me.

Today I get that just because I don’t have active cancer, I can’t erase all that my body has been through in the past.

Today I am going to go with today.

Dear you

Dear you,

I overheard a conversation the other day that made me cry.

“I can’t believe you did that again”

“When are you going to learn what you can and can’t do?”

“Are we seriously talking about this again?”

“Great, now these pants don’t fit too”

I cried when I heard these harsh, cruel words escape out into the open.

These words escaped out of the mouth of someone I love so much, only to fall into the ears and heart of someone just as loved.

These words escaped out of the mouth of someone who lifts all others up – always telling others what they are capable of.

These words escaped out of the mouth of someone only to pierce the heart of another.

I cried for both of them.

I cried for me.

I cried for the me I talk to.

I wondered how it got to this point?

How it got to where these harsh-nasty words flowed all too easily?

How it got this point - to where she believed these nasty words?

How it got to where she could even speak these words?

How did all of this happen I wondered to myself?

How, I cried.

How?

How could I, who encourages everyone around me to follow their dreams, lifts them up in their dark hours, reassure them that they too can get through the shitty chemo about to flood their bodies, who will sit and laugh or cry with you for as long as you need…how could that same that same sweet heart who is so kind to others be so cruel to me?

I sat with this a while.

I went back to all the times I talked this way to myself.

I cried…

I cried from the shame I felt

I cried for the breath of fresh air that was coming over me. 

I cried because I was saying good-bye to a part of me...even thought it was a part of me that needed to go - it was still a part of me. 

That was a few months ago…I am happy to report I have unlearned negative self-talk.

Yes, it still creeps in – especially if I am really tired, but I am learning to shut it down quickly and tell my heart the truth…I am a pretty cool chick with wild ideas ready to take on the world!

Video: Learning to OWN my story

Own it

One good thing about me not being able to drive far is that people have to take me places! Honestly, I don't mind because the car rides give us time to talk.

The other night C volunteered to be my driver for the night.  We were going to J's house to help her daughter celebrate her birthday...I guess they have heard us cancer chicks still know to have a good time?!?!

C and I don't get to spent a lot of one and one time together...but we need to!

We were talking about what we both want to do with our "cancer stories," and she is a not beat around the bush type (yes, like me...maybe that is why we do nothing but talk sh*t and laugh?!?!)

She told me something that I really needed to hear from one of my "own."
She told me that YES my story is crazy messed up BUT it is awesome and so inspiring.
She told me I need to own that sh*t...when people tell me how inspiring my story is - own it.
She told me I inspire her with me...me living life the way I continue to.

I don't know why I need to hear this from others?
That isn't true...I do know why.
I tend to think that everyone would do the same that I have done...
But I know this isn't the case.  I know this from hearing other people tell me that hearing my story breathed life back into their fight.

When people ask me how I stay so upbeat, I laugh it off.
When people tell me I am a true warrior, I shrug and say it was what I had to do.

But I now understand they are serious...they see me as a beacon of Hope.
I am starting to see what they see.

With the help of others, I am learning to OWN IT...own my story, own the greatness of it and own the impact MY story does have on others.

Now this is part I really want to say: this isn't to brag or be all look at me...but maybe I shouldn't? Maybe I should give myself permission to live in it without any "but, and, or ifs" at the end.

 

Good bye Genae

I still remember the day we met.

She was outspoken on the same topics I was too, but I wasn't sure of my place in this new group to speak my mind yet.

But after she spoke, I knew I didn't have to speak – she had said everything I was thinking.

It is odd how my memory works…I can’t remember some things that I would think would be unforgettable, but I seem to hang on to memories of meeting new people…especially people who make a mark on my life.

An unexpected mark.

A random mark.

But marks that veer my overall direction in life…even ever so slightly but that slight veer points me in a whole new direction over time.

She was a cheerleader to me…she seemed to be my personal cheerleader with all my crazy ideas. She would tell me that my ideas were exactly what this world needs now…and I believed her.

She would give life to my hopeful soul with our talks…she was a successful business women with some major ump behind her, and she believed in what I told her about what I want to accomplish in the world.

Many others vied for her attention, but for some reason she picked me.  She saw something in me and told me so and wanted me on her team.

When I questioned my ability to succeed in my dream, she assured me everyone started somewhere and I had a lot more heart behind my starting than most people she knew.

We would meet for coffee at 10 and end up staying through lunch.

We met just last week.  We were planning on taking a road trip to Frederiksberg to show our art to various stores in hopes of them wanting an exclusive deal with one or hopefully both of us. She told me she would do all the talking – she knew my hang up about selling my stuff to others.

We laughed at the dumb stuff we both did but encouraged each other just the same.

We would text each other random thoughts and art ideas yet never had to explain the why behind them…we both knew the why – we were free spirits trying to live in this life but by our own rules.

I told her I love you on our hug good-bye last week.

I tend to tell all the people whom I really care about that here lately.

It feels natural now verses awkward in the past.

I guess I know how quickly life can change…out to coffee one week...not able to the next.

I used to think I knew the preciousness of life that is so lightly balanced in time.

I didn't.

I still don’t.

Life can be there one week for grand plans of the future...of hopeful dreams starting to take shape…then the next week gone.

To you, my dear friend Genae. I wish a lot of things right now...but most of all, I wish you peace while you are up there looking down on us. I hope you are coloring clouds a new vibrant hue. 

My heart's growth

All this happening with my friend as of late, is really taking me to several different places in my heart.

Places that are blah but in my mind, necessary for growth.

I have found in the past 6.5 years of dealing with cancer crap, some of my most beautiful growth happens right after massive heart break. 

The heart break can be from anything: me being told I have Stage IV cancer, my grandparents passing away, brain surgery, a friend passing away, having to learn to walk again, my dad having massive back surgery…the list could go on and on.

One thing I have noticed from all these times of heart break: is that after a heart break, my heart mends back together differently…different in noticeable ways.

Something that was important to me before, seems so minor now.  If it even gets a place in my new heart - it is a tiny place that I can easily silence if need be.

Old heart before cancer VS New heart after cancer:

BC: I was very caught up in what others were doing…either good or bad…and I would talk about it…either good or bad.  

AC: Now, I am learning that if I have bad things to say about anyone in my life, I need to take a step back and look at myself more to see why I have those feelings.

If I feel someone has failed me time and time again, maybe it is time I exit stage right from that scene in my life? And if it is time to breakup with that person, that it is OK…it is the ebb and flow of life happening in life.

I have had friends break up with me too, and I know it hurts.  I used to be SO in awe of how they could do that to ME…but now I see it wasn’t me, it wasn't them, it was us – and we grew in different directions.

BC: I didn’t take near enough time to slow down and just be.  I would book my schedule so full, I was always running from one thing to the next.

AC: I crave me time.  I need to sit with myself and process my emotions many times throughout the day.  If something bad happens, I sit with it in my heart, look at it, tell it thank you for teaching me but now it is time to go and release to God. I even have a whole vision process I use.

BC: I liked to pretend what others thought of my actions didn’t matter to me because I was big, bad and strong…in reality it has always mattered but I felt like I needed to protect my heart.

AC: If I do/say something wrong, I say sorry right then and there.  I ask others to forgive me for times I have hurt them unknowingly or knowingly.

This list could go on and on.

Now I pray these lessons I spoke of are really rooted in my heart, and my breaking process is over and I will continue to grow.

I never wanted

This is a follow up to yesterday.

My heart told me to go yesterday morning, so I was walking out the door at 7:30.
It was much colder than I thought it was going to be outside, but I was on a mission to get to the hospital and didn't care about a coat or the fact that I looked like I just rolled out of bed and threw on clothes...because I had.

I was able to sit with her and her mother-in-law for well over an hour.

She didn't want to talk because her breathing was labored.
I told her we don't to need to talk...I just wanted to be there to love on her.
She accepted that.

She was getting sleepy from the meds, so I decided it was time I go in order to let her rest.

When I hugged her, something in her switched...I believe it was a panic attack.  

She started to breath shallow and fast and said she was felt bad for her husband. I first tried to calm her down using what Eric uses on me when I am having a panic attack: I told her to breath in through her nose, out through her mouth...we worked on that for a few breaths.
I kept repeating, in nose, out mouth...just to give us something else to focus on.

I didn't know what to say, so I went to smart-ass mode: I told her he will be fine and don't worry about him because all men are all big babies anyways and can't even handle a cold...that got a small smile...but not for long.

The panic set in again.

We went through the panic/calm down cycle a few times.

At this point her pain meds were really kicking in.
She would slightly close her eyes and just start moaning. I don't know if she hurt or just the realness of what is happening hit her heart or both - or neither.

I knew she needed to rest, so I told her I was going and her mother-in-law was right there to take her hand.

I walked out of her room in a daze.
I asked where the hospital chapel was.
On my way there, I spotted 3 of my girls in the waiting room.
I walked in with them and lost all composure I had been able to maintain. 

They were all there to see her too, but after the first one went in, she said she was done with visitors.

So we all sat in the wait room together, holding hands, laughing, crying...processing.

For me and one other, this was super hard. 
The last close one was lost was when it was just the 3 of us...then it was just 2. Casey didn't want visitors at all, so we never got to kiss her goodbye. We called and texted her husband daily to see if she was up for company, but the answer was always the same.
So instead, K and I handled it the only way we knew how...we talked and cried to each other.

I never wanted others to join this stupid club, but I guess that never mattered. 
I never wanted to feel this way again.

I love you

I will admit, not remembering my WHOLE journey I have been on thus far...I remember when I read what I wrote about it, but there are still out big chunks of the the details I don't remember.

Eric will ask me if I remember a detail about a story we are talking about and the answer is usually no.

Last night I was telling him the updates on a friend who is not doing well...not well at all.

I was telling him if I was ever at her state, I didn't know...I think I would be done.

Yes, I know this sounds horrible - it sounds as if I am saying she should be done...that is not the case at all.

I am the only one out of a handful of us "cancer girls" who has been laying on my death bed...literally. After my 2nd brain surgery, I felt I was done...my mind and body were done fighting.

I say by the grace of God, he filled my fight tank back up. 

I realize we ALL have felt lost and hopeless at different points, but for the most part, right now all of my girls are good. 

Yes, I use the word good loosely, but for those who are on full out chemo, to those who are trying new drugs - their bodies AND minds are holding up well...in my opinion. With that, I get I don't see their everyday struggles.

Anyway, I get into all this for a reason: one of my cancer girls isn't doing well...at all. She is in the hospital again. Seeing this happen again brings back the gut wrenching memories of myself and of other friends.

I am not comparing stories - they are all completely different stories, BUT no matter the story leading up to this point in their story...this seems to be the same in all the stories.

This is where the bad memories come in - it all gets so real and fresh again when it is happening right in front of my face...once more.

I am going up to see my friend today promptly at 9:00 in hopes of me getting there before the room fills up with too many others.

I just want a few quite minutes with her...to hold her hand and tell her I love her.  

I don't want to tell her how I am, I don't want tell her anything other than I love her. 

I don't want to tell her my shit, I just want to say I love you.  

I don't want to ask her what her doctors are saying, I just want to love on her.

I don't want to tell her to keep fighting, I just want to say I love you.

And done

I am exhausted.

I went through my book and changed all the adverbs (I THINK that is what they are called? did/does/is/was)

This had been on my heart for awhile that I might need to do this in order for it to make sense to all those reading it who have NO idea of my story before they pick up my book...hopefully thousands upon thousands of people!?!?

So I worked on it ALL weekend. 
I pretty much neglected all my other duties just so I would be able to say, I finished on February 1, 2015.

And finish I did!

But by doing this, I read my story with different eyes.  
I could finally detach myself from it and look at like a reader is going to read it. 

I laughed at many of the memories, I cried at even more and I am walking away from the read changed once again...to be reminded of all the crazy things that have happened in the past 3 years, to see where I was to where I am now...yes, it renewed my DO IT attitude.  

I am ready...ready for whatever it next.  
And I am excited!