#11 In The Books

The 12 Days of Christmas, day 3

The third day of Christmas is super cute chemo caps!  I mean, can a girl have too many hats to cover a cold head?!  These had been delivered before I came home from chemo.  People are incredibly generous with us.  As hard as my life is right now, I feel so much love and compassion from the people I know, and in the case of the 12 days, people I don't know!  When I was in the infusion room, gearing up for chemo, a grandma and mom came through with fuzzy, big, NICE, warm blankets, handing them out to the people getting chemo.  The tag on the bag says, "Keep up the fight, stay cozy in memory of Crystal Marie."  Crystal is the daughter/granddaughter of these sweet ladies.  Ladies who were inspired to do that one thing that they could to brighten someone's day.  It definitely brightened mine!  My friend Geri brought me some vegan chocolate this afternoon as well.  So I'm going to curl up in my warm blanket, eat my vegan chocolate, and watch a move with my man.

Me and My Tree - as close as I've
been to nature in a long time

My friend Bonnie came with me today.  This is the same Bonnie who does the AromaTouch massage on Mondays.  When you get to the infusion room, they show you to your pod and recliner, and the nurse comes to ask about side effects you've experience through the week.  I added two to the list today.  One started last night.  My four front teeth on top randomly start feeling like they're sitting in ice cream, like teeth freeze for no reason!  It just comes and goes, and is, Oh, so unpleasant.

As I rattled off my list of super fun side effects, Bonnie was surprised by what I endure every week.  My life is hard, but things could be worse.  I could have neuropathy in my hands and feet (KNOCK ON WOOD!).  I could be in pain (KNOCK ON WOOD!), I could be lying in a pine box (KNOCK ON WOOD!).

The nurse ordered some extra tests to check potassium and other stuff.  And she ordered an extra liter of fluid, because I'm dehydrated. The irony is I always have water with me, because my mouth always feel like it's full of cotton balls.  I know I don't drink enough water for chemo, everyday is a water battle.  The remembering . . .  Today was just the Taxol, so it went relatively fast.  The best news of all is that I get to take next week off!  More on that in a few days!!!

Something Bonnie said today made me think about a mission statement I wrote for myself a few years back.  I wholeheartedly believe that if you don't know what you want, and it's not articulated, you'll never get it.  I struggled with what I wanted to do and who I wanted to be.  I thought about it for a long time.  This came to me in the middle of the night one night.  The words started going through my head, I jolted awake and realized these were the words I was looking for.  I wrote it down, almost word for word like it is here.  Not many words, but it sums up perfectly what I want for my life.  So here it is, I keep this on my bedside table.

My dreams encompass meeting the needs of the less fortunate around me.  To stand ready to provide financial assistance to the destitute when I can, to provide emotional strength to those who suffer, and to offer a hand up when I see opportunities to help others help themselves, whether on this continent or another.

One of my BIG, HUGE bucket list items is to go on at least one humanitarian trip in my life.  I've always wanted to do it, but never had the resources.  I've always dreamed that me and Mat would go on a bunch of Humanitarian missions in our later years.  To this point in my life, my contributions to the world are what I can do locally, but I haven't given up on a trip to Africa or some other place where I can share my love for people, no matter who they are or what they've been through.

Me and Mat met with Annie, LCSW this week.  Mat's been so busy the last couple months that this was the first time we could get the three of us together.  She's such a great lady, knows what to ask and anticipates what our challenges are.  She understands the reality of what we're facing too, so she's compassionately realistic.  Stage 4 is no joke, especially when it's living in my liver.  It's an uphill battle, but it's one I'm willing to fight!

p.s.  It took my college age daughter to find the flaws in my math on the last post.  The math has been corrected!  :P