Almost Normal

My port is coming out today. My doctor is going to take it our right there in his office. Yep, he is going to numb me up and while I am fully awake crack open my chest, clip the stitches and pull the line out of my artery. Trying not to think about that too much. But, he is going to let us see it. If we get to take a picture, I'll let you see the disgusting thing too. I must say I will not be sad to see it go. It interferes with my sleep every night when I roll over and squish it. That hurts. Also, most of my cancer induced panic dreams start with the nightmare of someone accessing my port. Yes, it worked and saved my poor arm, but the memory of someone plunging an inch long needle into your chest and wiggling it around is not a pretty one. Enough! At 4 PM that nasty little device is no longer a part of my life!

This is also what I consider to be the last step in my active cancer treatment. This month I have had tests and doctor appointments galore, but now my next appointment is in September. Let the "Summer of Cara" begin. The main goal of the "Summer of Cara" is to heal, heal, heal. That is number one on the list. (E, aren't you proud?) We have held our usual crazy summer schedule to a minimum to allow lots of time for rest and healing.

Speaking of healing, just in the last two weeks I have begun to feel better. It seemed to be a bit of a cruel joke that after my treatment stopped I continued to get worse. That was so frustrating and depressing. I know I am suddenly improving because several of my friends have commented on it. Not just to me, but also to Paul and in very specific ways. My eyes have cleared - no longer so glassy, I am engaged in what is going on most of the the time and I have lost the grey complexion that I had courtesy of the chemo.

I am still waging a major war on two fronts. The first is against the Tamoxifen and the way it messes with my hormones. It has thrown me in to full on menopause with all of the symptoms magnified, just for fun. I am starting to be able to recognize the hormonal mood swings and cope with them. I got a shot that is supposed to kill the hot flashes for a while. The hot flashes had become bad and nearly continuous, so a little relief during the hot San Antonio summer is a real blessing.

The second war I am battling is mental. I thought the slide out of chemo would be quick and complete. Nope, it's not. I seem to be waking up and regaining focus in increments. The problem is that every time a new section of my consciousness wakes up, I become overwhelmed. I am overwhelmed by the things I have missed during the last year and by the things I see in front of me. For example, this week I woke up to the house and the closets. Sound dumbs, but all of the sudden I was totally freaked out by all of the work I saw in front of me that I couldn't do, but needed to be done. Thanks to my sweet, patient husband and my friend that I now refer to as my therapist, I am generally able to conquer the anxiousness, put things in perspective and go on. However, anytime this happens I do have a couple days being completely upset and beside myself about what has happened while I was not there. Sort of like I have to mourn for my loss before I can go on and deal with what is next. The house is a minor example, I have also woken up to the kids' school progress, the wreck of my marriage, all the decisions that were made in the last year that seem to have been done with out me and more.
I keep thinking I am all there and I am definitely getting closer, but I wonder what I am going to become re-introduced to next.

Despite all that, we are creeping back to normal. As long as I mange my energy, I can usually have pretty normal days. I am back to cooking dinner most nights rather than looking at Paul helplessly when he walks in the door after work. We are starting to have normal conversations and do regular things other than manage illness. In fact, Paul proclaimed Memorial Day to be the "most normal Saturday we have had in a year and a half". It was, of course, Monday, but you get the point. The road ahead is still long. I have to keep the expectations of myself very, very low. But, now we are definitely headed up out of the dark valley and into the light.

"And the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will Himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast." 1 Peter 5:10