Deal Self,
Thank you for not failing me throughout this crazy journey. From the veins that pumped blood and drugs to every little nook and cranny to the sore and fatigued muscles that helped me get through the days, I would have been lost without your help. I promise to feed you all the good things to reward y’all. I promise to exercise and help you become stronger and more efficient.
Hair. You hung in there as long as you could. I cried when I had you buzzed into the most radical pixie cut and then I loved you. Watching you fall in red clumps to the bottom of my shower was a hurt I’ll never forget. I know it was not a betrayal but your signal to me that the chemotherapy was starting to work. Upon your departure, I was left with a smooth and shiny head, blemish free (thanks skin!!). I learned to embrace that. As you started to come back, tiny sprouts of fuzz, I knew I was on my way out of the dark winter tunnel of chemotherapy and into warm sunny spring. Gone is the beautiful auburn crazy wavy hair. Not gonna lie, I miss that. You’ve thrown me a curve by coming in snow white and changing over to a beautiful shade of silver and grey. I promise not to abuse you. Some days are hard as you are so much shorter than I’ve ever had and you are slow to grow thanks to targeted therapies. You will grow. You are beautiful. I am embracing this change as perhaps this is how I am meant to be.
Skin, we have had many battles during chemotherapy but you hung in there. Cracking, peeling, pulling apart and painful…but you held me together. You’ve been sliced open several times, each time, healing nicely. This time, after reconstruction, you pulled a fast one. Literally. Speedy healing. Minimal scarring. No discomfort. You did me a solid. I will protect you from the harsh sun and environment just as you protected me these past few months. No more painful dryness, no sunburns, just love.
My eyes have helped me read and learn everything I could to make it through this journey. You’ve become tired and hella blurry no matter what I do. It’s ok. I just need you guys to settle down and be normal again. I dealt with double vision, blurry vision and exhaustion, I can deal with you guys a little longer. I will wear my reading glasses when I need to, I won’t push you guys so hard anymore. You’ve helped push me through, I need to do a better job of taking care you.
I made it through with minimal issues to my teeth. You poor guys. I’ve been unkind with my shitastic fear of the dentist. You sent me a clear message when one of you guys decided to spit out a filling from the back. I heard you. Immediately I set out to find a dentist to fix you. As soon as I was cleared, I had to be an adult and hauled my ass in to see the dentist and hygienist. You got a spa treatment of cleaning. You earned it. You hung in my head and allowed me to eat healthy. I’ll take better care of you now.
Manicures and pedicures are cleared for takeoff and I promise to keep you guys clean and short and covered with non-toxic and pretty hues. Thank you so much for not falling out even when I was hit with the first round of chemo toe and then one of my driving fingers decided to lift. You all stayed. All twenty of you (yes, I had to count to be sure.)
My dear sore and painful joints, who no matter what I do won’t stop hurting. I get it. Even though it hurts like mad to move and doing most things is a tremendous effort right now, the aches remind me that I’m alive. I’m so alive and thriving. There will be relief as time marches on. For now, I will be getting back in the swing of exercise and weights again and that should help us all feel normal again.
To my new boobs, holy shit, you’re better than I could have ever imagined. I was faithful with getting screened every year and every six months since I was twenty-nine. I think deep down inside I knew at some point the old girls would have to go. I wasn’t expecting Felicia to be so vile though. I will continue with getting you guys checked when I am supposed to. Between surgical oncologist, medical oncologist, plastic surgeon and primary care physician, you will be monitored closely. It seems everyone in the medical world has seen you both and it’s no big deal anymore. I look at you both and smile with love as you smile right back at me. I love you guys and won’t take your existence for granted anymore.
Port, we had a love-hate relationship. You were a vivid reminder of the shit storm I’ve encountered over the last 18 months. Your very existence meant my life was no longer the same after being invaded by the malignant bitch…and I hate that. However, you provided a gentle way of getting my drugs into my body with minimal discomfort and complications. Aside from clogging once in a while and silently screaming at me after infusions, you were always there and ready. I am sorry that as soon as I was able, I had you removed. Thank you for helping save my life but I kinda wanted to make a necklace out of you. Instead, I took a picture.
To my body as a whole, damn, we’ve been together for over 48 years. You’ve hauled me through multiple serious illnesses, major injuries and serious operations and I thank you. I am not afraid of what you can do, I’m not afraid of you making more rogue nastiness. I respect you now as I know the good and bad that you are capable of. I will look out for you more. There will be more laughter, more sunshine and love, less stress and anxiety. We have both earned it…you will be well because self-love is the greatest gift I can give.
With Love,
Me
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