Everything Old Is New Again

This Friday was the first “every other Friday” since January that I didn’t receive chemotherapy. Wow. It felt very odd as I’ve had a standing date with my chemo cocktail for the past six months. The day went by without much fanfare. I did however find myself in the chemo infusion room at Bartlett, this time to give Tamara an armful of rhubarb from my garden that I had promised her. She greeted me warmly and gave me a huge hug along with a video about moving on after cancer, which I haven’t watched yet.

I have my own version of moving on and that’s to return to normal as soon as humanly possible. There are so many things that I missed from my daily life that I just haven’t been able to manage for the past six months. I realize that this whole ordeal is definitely not over as I still have a month of radiation in Seattle, and that will be as far from normal as I could possibly get.

In the meantime though, I can’t help but think of the things I’ve missed. I’ve missed myself a lot; I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror. Since January I’ve gained 20 lbs. This is the most I’ve weighed without being pregnant and it’s hard on me to not fit into my clothes. The other thing I really miss is my hair.

When I first cut all my hair off back in January, people kept telling me how much they liked it and how I should just keep it short. Where I appreciated the compliments, all I could think was, “I want my long hair back.” My hair is growing back, but it’s pretty thin and you can see through the little stubs of hair right to the scalp. I’m still not comfortable taking off my hat in public because I look a little silly. But, it will soon start filling back in and I don’t want to cut it until its back to normal. Okay, maybe I’ll get it slightly “styled” along the way, but I just want it back to where it was when this whole thing began.

My physical appearance will return with time, but other aspects of my life will not. For example, I am down to only one job. A few months ago my job at the state ended. It was grant funded and the grant expired. Then we applied for a new grant to keep the project going and unfortunately, we didn’t get it. So I am down to my opera job which is only part-time. I’d love to work only part-time as I’ve been working full time ever since Lena was born, but I don’t see that happening as daycare for the girls is more than I make in a part-time job. I have a lot of figuring out to do.

Another aspect of moving on from all things cancer is getting the port-a-cath out of my chest. It’s been bothering me a lot lately as it tightens up and sharply pinches me. I had a surgery scheduled to have it removed last Wednesday, but right after Dr. Miller (AKA the Mikado) explained the procedure and said, “See you tomorrow,” he came back in the room and asked me when my last chemo was. After telling him the date, he told me there was no way he felt comfortable doing the procedure when I was entering into my nadir state (where my white blood cell count was the lowest it could be.) It posed too much of a risk and he just didn’t feel comfortable. I understood, but at the same time I was really bummed out. This means I’ll have it removed in Seattle by the surgeon I wasn’t such a fan of. I guess he was okay, but I have a sneaking suspicion his attendees did the two procedures I had performed and they left two careless and over the top scars on me. Also, one of his attendees was really blunt and was the first to tell me I had cancer- before I even had surgery to prove it. He delivered the news casually and bluntly, like I had heard it a thousand times. He even used the word Leukemia in the sentence which sent me and my friend Cristina into near hysterics. I was hoping to never see them again, but I guess I won’t be that lucky.

Addison and I have also enjoyed being back to a family of four humans and two pets. Since October when Aurelia was born, we really haven’t been without a grandma for an extended period of time. The month of December was the longest stint we had without someone here, and even then, my folks were here for Christmas. Where I’ve appreciated having the help, I have to admit it’s been nice to get back into the old swing of things. We even had our spontaneous dance break during dish washing last week. We used to always crank music while washing dishes, which inevitably in our family means dancing! It was so fun to watch Lena and Addison dancing carefree in the living room with huge smiles on their faces. Aurelia joined in by waiving her arms up and down to the beat. And yes, even Yasha participated and was my dance partner. We might have the only dancing dog in the world. She prefers Celtic rock, and sometimes ABBA. Our family normalness won’t last for long as in less than a week, the girls and I head off to Seattle for one month.

So yes, moving on and returning back to normal, or as normal as my life can be. When I told my friend Amelia that I wanted to return back to normal, she laughed and said, “Franny, your life has never been normal.” She has a good point. Maybe returning back to normal for me is returning back to the abnormal. I’ll take that.