Thursday, September 4, 2014

More Questions than Answers and Dear Body...

Dear Body...
I find this to be an interesting practice for anyone. Many might be bitter after an operation. I remember after my first operation, I looked at my long scar and sighed, told it, I know you'll recover, I know you hurt now, this had to be done, I'm sorry. *I barely see this scar anymore. The pain has subsided, especially after a few months went by from radiation treatment.
After my second operation, I looked at my little c scar and sighed, told it, yep, you're there, you look a little different but there's more coming with radiation... I'll keep putting stuff on you for healing. Said the same to the "S" scar under my arm from the third operation where lymph nodes were removed and checked.
After this past week's operation, I looked at my side and imagined what was coming. I have bandages all over. I know there are three scars. I know two were cut through my right breast which already went through enough with a lumpectomy and radiation less than 6 months ago, poor thing. Goodness knows how the scar tissue will feel this time. Goodness knows how radiation will make me feel this time beyond burned and tired and wired- will it impact my throat? voice? give me dry mouth? ruin my gag reflexes? give me sores so that it hurts to eat? What about chemotherapy? Oh vey to the imagination I have for reaction to that. I've watched the videos that have doctors saying that you can still work during chemotherapy and you can also still stick to an exercise regimine that both will combat fatigue... shall see what I'm able to do. I'm hoping to buckle down and work on my writing, look at this as a gift of time... sort of.

So, for now... here's my Dear Body:
I forgive you for being prone to multiplying cells that shouldn't be in me. I forgive you for being sensitive to food. I will accommodate you, care for you, and try my best to nurture you with patience, positive energy, and alternative treatments to balance out all this wonderful life-saving yet reactive modern medicine.

What happened this afternoon:
The Dr. appointment today was frustrating. My love walked with me away from the Dr. and we agreed, we were leaving with more questions than answers, that's annoying. I dislike that lab technicians are now giving conflicting analysis of biopsies and we have to wait another week for further decisions on treatment based on more lab tests... Right now they're thinking that I don't actually have lung cancer but a stray cancer that bounced up to my lungs from my cervical cancer... so cervical cancer that didn't just spread up? It just is there in my lung and lymph node? What if I had been treated with chemo back in November when I was first diagnosed? Could that have helped us avoid this exhaustive experience? Yes, I ask these questions. Of course I can't change the past but realistically they run through my head. Plugging my way along, working on looking toward the positive but accepting that I'm a little angry as well.

Oh well. Patience has brought us along this far... I do know now that my doctor plans to first give me four rounds of chemotherapy every three weeks and a month of radiation second. He mentioned that he might have some chemotherapy drugs that I'd have to take to make the radiation work well. They won't do anything for at least 2 more weeks so I can recover from surgery... Gearing up mentally for whatever comes...

Here's where my thoughts on "Dear body" above reflection came from:
There was a sweet girl, think in 2007 who started a meme called "Dear Body":
Without cancer example:

Today I came across a different "dear body" video for someone who dealt with cancer, chemo, radiation and such and was a survivor. Loved her messages to herself. I really honestly could care less about weight loss, in fact I'm trying to gain weight on this limited food protocol I'm on so that's beyond why I was touched by this video... I just appreciated self reflection and positive messages within both videos.

After cancer example:

Staying strong and positive but riding the waves through this journey...


  1. Oh, Debbie, it is a dear, dear body that also betrays us at times. Then rebounds and astounds us. And medicine, one of the few sciences, suddenly more an art. Messy, at that, like a smart kindergartner finger painting with our lives. I'm riding this wave with you (though not really, not really at all, not enough, barely a drop, except for the truth of my bleeding, stretched-out spirit that tries to hold you just a little, to hear you just a little across the molecules (?) of a buzzing white screen...). I'm sending you love. Your strength and grace inspire and amaze me.

    1. Appreciate your thoughts... "a smart kindergartner finger painting with our lives" so true. Appreciate your caring, loving, stretched spirit that reaches out so wonderfully... Quite grateful.

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  3. This is one heck of a journey. Just keep swimming. Loved the videos.

  4. Thanks for sharing, Debbie. Your writing has such a strong voice. It can be heard above everything that cancer is shouting.