I had big plans for this summer. We called it “Summer of 30.” A list, my friend and I created of 30 things we wanted to do this summer as we embark on our 30’s.
Summer has started. Nothing has been checked off the list, unless of course we add:
1. Try chemotherapy for the first time - CHECK
2. Have an awesome summer moon face from prednisone - CHECK
3. Gain 15 lbs this summer - who needs daisy dukes anyways! - CHECK
Oh I could go on…
The list was very basic. Try a Russian Vodka bar, go for High Tea, sail around the harbour, go on a wine tour…small things that we haven’t done, but wanted to experience. Now, I feel like I can’t do shit. Why? Because there’s a legit toxic party happening in my body and I look like a train wreck!
I turn 30 in a week. I never thought it would be like this. I was suppose to be married by now, or maybe in a great relationship. Maybe a child and my own house. The dream we all had when we were young girls playing house in our bedroom. Or maybe I was suppose to be “Single in the City.” Partying it up, living the life, drinking great wine and having sex with yummy men. I never pictured this. Living at home, single as mother Teresa, no partying, chronic pain, on chemo and no Mr. Boombastics for me!
Quicksand - that’s how it feels. I’m stuck, and looking on as my friends have a great time with life and i’m hiding away from the sun, covered up like a bloated albino, crackhead hippo. That’s how I feel…fat, puffy face, pale skin and bruises on my arms from the IV’s. Don’t get mad if I sound vain. But I am human and no one can “live life to the fullest,” if they feel like a HOT fucking MESS!
I think everyone is tired of hearing me complain - that’s why they don’t even ask anymore. I can’t blame them. I’m a broken record. I don’t want to make anyone feel guilty or bad for what I have to deal with. I can’t tell anyone to put there life on super slow motion, so that they make the same movements as me. Everyone deals with illness differently. There are friends who acknowledge, friends who embrace, friends who support, friends in denial, friends who ignore and friends who forget. I quickly had to learn that life goes on for everyone else, but for me, it’s back to the sidelines. It’s not anyone’s fault i’m on chemo, it’s no one’s fault I have a moon face, it’s no one’s fault I have scars and can’t show my skin…so no one should have to hear about it.
So, I sit with a smile, watching from the sidelines. Always happy for the amazing things happening in the lives of people around me, because I do have some good friends - and I am a good friend.
“Your strong, plus it’s only temporary. You got this girl.” Those were my instructions.
Crying is not allowed.