Yesterday, I was home alone for the first time in a very
long time; Curtis was at work and Jackson at school. For a majority of the day,
I cried. No seriously, I cried most of the day. I cried about everything that
was on my heart. I cried because I was sad, unhappy, feeling helpless and
hopeless. I was fatigued like never before, body ached beyond words – deep bone
aches. It was painful to think about my life and imagine what the next steps
were; they all seemed to be leaning in a downward direction of grave
discomfort. I was sad and for whatever reason could not find my footing to
support myself to get beyond this painful and hurtful space I was in. This
chemotherapy treatment of three weeks on, one week off is not sustainable for
much longer – I state this as I am in the middle of cycle 2 infusion 2. I have
not cried so hard nor felt the depth of pain that arose as I cried. Crying is
one way to literally refresh oneself – It can be seen as a way to off load
unnecessary burden that is weighting one down. Yesterday was a dark day for me.
I felt paralyzed in my pain. I was not sure how to become unstuck. I reached
out to a few individuals, via text, to share my current condition. I am not
sure what I was hoping in reply other than to validate my feelings assuring me
this was totally normal.
When Curtis arrived home from work, he walked in to see a
sad wifey curled up on the sofa. My husband loves me so much, it is amazing. We
both talked and cried together – then we moved forward. This morning, my
husband made me the most thoughtful wall hanging, brought me breakfast in bed,
and cleaned the house! See – I have an AWESOME husband. I love you Curtis and
know that I could not be walking this journey the way I am without you by my
side; you are my strength, biggest fan, and love me deeply.
I have four brothers, 1 older the rest younger. This illness
I carry, breaks my brothers’ hearts. As adults, they have developed soft tender
souls and spirits – especially for their sister. I like to tease them – “you
are all just a bunch of pussies!” Walking this journey of cancer for over four
years, some of my brothers have difficulty even looking me in the eye, because
they begin to cry – they love me and cannot imagine this is really happening.
My oldest brother David is perhaps the worst offender. Very little eye contact
or the tears will begin to flow. I find this quite lovely and it touches my
heart in a special place. Well, yesterday as I established Cry Christina Cry
day – I send David a text. Now keep in mind, he and I rarely directly
communicate, it is typically through his wife, so this was special. I poured
out my broken heart to him and waited for a response. I am not sure why I chose
him, but I followed my intuition. Below is what he wrote back:
From:
David
To:
Christina
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After carefully reading each word – searching for something
that would help me in this moment of being lost…there it was! What he wrote was
perfect; it was exactly what I needed to be reminded of. He was right – my soul
is not broke, but yes, my body was failing me. I believe with every piece of my
being that there are no accidents in our lives. I know that my intuition to
reach out to David, as ridiculous as I thought of the idea at the time –
because he has mastered avoidance like nobody’s business, he provided me just
what I needed. Speak our desires into the universe and she will respond. So to
my big brother – thank you for knowing what to say, in the moment I needed it.
I love you and know that I see you – and understand that your heart breaks for
me. I too know that you believe I have strength to continue to walk this
journey with grace – and I intend to do exactly this. Thank you Davey – for
loving me and sharing a piece of your heart.
Today was Cycle 2 session 2 – next Thursday will be the last
in this cycle. Where my treatment goes from there is up for discussion and
plans are being discussed. I must always remember that quality of life is #1 to
me – above all else. I am so happy my friend Vicki was by my side and even came
over a bit early to see me. Even though I was still in bed, she didn’t think
twice and jumped on into my big bed with
tons of pillows and lay there with me as we just chatted prior to my chemo
infusion. I love you Vicki Bern – you are a special woman. There are hopefully
some new and exciting things to come in the near future – for now, please
continue sending positive healing thoughts, energy, and prayers.
Today, I am hopeful~