Chemo Part II: Bring it, Apollo Creed: I was pretty positive going in. The nurse asked me how I did the first time around and I said not bad. I proceeded to list my side effects. She then turned and said "so you got all the side effects". And I laughed. I really do think I didn't have it bad and wasn't sweating the side effects. Thankfully my sister in law was there with me and through the infusion I felt a bit drugged up but I was really distracted by our conversations. I made a mad dash with drinking ice-filled ginger ale and the nurse said that some people chew on ice to alleviate side effects during infusion. Well of course I jumped on that bandwagon, but a little more than halfway through, the cold sensitivity reared its ugly head and I had to part with my wonderful little cubes. I finished up and again, didn't feel so bad. I noticed tingling in my calves and quickly got a blind spot in my eye but I didn't really care because we were done with a really long day. And then I got bitchslapped by chemo. On the ride home more symptoms started. Pins and needles in calves grew stronger and pain and cramping in my right hand and arm ensued. I still wasn't sweating it. And then I went to get out of the car. I felt like I was lifting cement boots every time I took a step.
So here in lies the fear: can I hold my baby? Right now my right arm is out of commission. You would think it would be a blessing that I am left handed, but since childhood I only write and bat lefty. My right side of my body is predominantly stronger and that of course is weird, but I expect nothing less from this odd-ass body I inhabit. Have I mentioned that I pass out when I vomit or that I use eye ointment because I have frequent corneal erosions? My husband says he is married to Felix Unger (Young ones reading this please go google who he is. You should know. If you had me as a teacher, then you really should know). Sorry, I am rambling.
Back to my wonky arms and legs. Last night I held Sam in my left arm but it was awkward and at one point I needed to put her in the bassinet, but I was terrified to get up.
The other heartbreaking part of yesterday had nothing to do with how I was feeling. It was the looks on Emily and Will's faces and the looks were by no means priceless. Apparently chemo creates immediate paleness. I am the living embodiment of the song lyric "a whiter shade of pale". Will immediately blurted out "you are so pale". If I was feeling at all myself, I would have responded with "well, you smell like cabbage" or "you look like Kim Kardashian". The latter might be the bigger insult in my weird family dynamic. But I just told him that this will happen every time and it will eventually fade. I don't want my kids to not blurt out their observations or their questions. I am very open about my symptoms because keeping them in the dark will only create fear. I recently learned my lesson with secrecy when I made the mistake of trying to hide my sadness. But last Saturday it all came to a head and I lost that ability. Who would have thought at 37 years old I would cry like a baby because I couldn't go to a dance?
Junior prom: Last Saturday was my school's junior prom. Now I have missed so much since my diagnosis. Mostly my kids' soccer games and that sucks. It does bother me but now that Sam is here one of us has to be home and that has to be me (and most the time with a baby sitter.....for me, not Sam). But I have missed other things, be it a friend's birthday party or dinners or family gatherings and I have been okay with it.
But Saturday, I was not okay. I was devastated that I wasn't going and for various reasons.
1. The wonderful women who worked tirelessly all year to create the prom mean the world to me. They are my friends and my mentors and I was heartbroken that I did not get to help them or be a part of this amazing experience. I wanted to see their creation because I knew from their track record, it would be the best prom ever.
2. I miss my coworkers. Coworkers is a stupid word. I miss my friends. Not many people can honestly say that they miss their bosses, but I am one of the lucky ones. I miss hearing about their lives, or work drama, or just being able to make fun of them and vice versa. It really kills me not being at work and thus, that brings me to number 3.
3. Words cannot express how much I miss my students. Even writing these words makes my stomach drop. I miss my teenagers. "Teenagers? Okay this lady is crazy and I will no longer be reading her blog." No the cancer had not gotten to my head! Please remember that I just teach them. I do not have to live with them like many of you do. Although come August I will be one of you brave souls (Emily turns 13). Okay I'm rambling. Anyway, I love these kids and I miss them terribly. Since starting at Southern I have taught nothing but Freshman classes. I should be institutionalized by now! The junior class has been one of the greatest groups of kids I have ever encountered. The year I had them as freshman was a tough year for me. I was having some issues outside of school and my stress level was beyond high. But those kids made me want to get up and go to work every day. They were my distraction and my comic relief. I remember the last day of school when I broke character. I dropped my traditional comedy routine and broke down in tears. I thanked them for being them. I told them that they had unknowingly been my rock all year and that I truly loved each and every one of them.
I never thought much about what I told them. I assumed they thought I was a weirdo (they had already told me that numerous times that year), but after my cancer diagnosis I had a lot of these Juniors reach out to me. Not only did they send me words of encouragement but many of them did mention that moment and what it meant to them. "Wait, what the hell is she talking about? I thought this was about prom. Her chemo brain must be really bad today." Sorry, I am making a point, I swear. I just needed you to understand how much I adore these kids and the thought of missing their prom was absolutely killing me. Now I will move on.
Pity party: I had a pity party in my bedroom. All of you were invited but my husband was the only brave soul that showed up. So a text message from a friend letting me know a place was set for me at a prom table not only made me cry, but made start to entertain the thought of going. But then the bad thoughts overpowered that. I don't want the kids to see me like this. It's their prom and I don't want to make a spectacle and take away from their night. I haven't waxed my eyebrows in months and I'm starting to look like a Neanderthal. Will my colleagues think I'm being selfish by going? My social anxiety is back with a vengeance and I don't want to leave the baby. I love that the eyebrow one had more weight than most of these! So I cried and Billy walked in asking what was wrong and within minutes he had me trying on dresses. Well that backfired because I stood there crying, going on about looking like Frankenstein and having horrible acne all over my back and he just took it and tried to convince me that I looked beautiful. Poor guy. I let the pity win when in reality, he clearly did.
But I still had the itch and when a friend offered to pick me up and go with me, I realized that pity was losing. So Billy raced me over to get my eyebrows waxed because, of course, that's top on the list. Ahh....Vanity. Well I guess chemo changed my skin a bit. The waxing left my eyebrows not only blood red but it made them abnormally swollen. Of course that happened. After numerous ice packs I gave up and forced myself to find the humor in this. I think that brought the swelling down more than the ice. Emily attempted to help me get ready (apparently I forgot how to be a woman. Or in funny meme talk: "I forgot how to hair" and "I forgot how to makeup"). Any time I made a self deprecating comment about my hair or pale skin, she was there to tell me I looked good even if she believed it or not. She was the sweetest, greatest person to have at my side and she unknowingly made me realize that I was being an asshole and focusing on the wrong things. Billy ran through the yard and picked flowers from every plant we have. He found 2 rubber bands and presented me with the cutest little homemade corsage I'd ever seen. I love him.
And then I went to prom.
I was scared.
I was overwhelmed.
The kids were happy to see me. They were beyond polite, had brief but meaningful conversations with me, and then went on their way and enjoyed their night.
My friends were happy to see me but more than that, I was in heaven to be with them and see their faces and hear their voices.
I was only going to stay one hour.
I stayed until the very end.
I barely remember my own prom.
I will never forget this one.