It’s true what they say… when you have a plan, everything becomes easier.
In one week I will receive my first round of chemo.
Yes, I’m anxious.
Yes, acknowledging that reality feels like someone made a horrible mistake.
No, I’m not debilitated or immobilized by fear.
I’m ok… for now.
For now, I’m back at work. I’m preparing my office for the new school year. I’m surrounded by wonderful people who care for me and support me. I’m back doing something that gives my life meaning. Something worth fighting for.
I am grateful.
Today I began unpacking my cabinets and drawers and assembling the various moving parts that power my work as a speech language pathologist. In the past, this was a relatively easy task. I would’ve had lots of notes with reminders. I would’ve remembered where everything had been placed. What I actually unpacked was the collateral damage of a new breast cancer diagnosis.
Back in May, after the cancer bomb went off, Brian pushed me to maintain some semblance of a normal life. He would not allow me to succumb to the dread. I showed up to work, but focus and productivity were out of my reach. I floated around like a ghost, allowing myself to be distracted by the familiar. My new reality consisted of being prepared to jump into treatment the moment the doctors figured out what we were dealing with. As a result, I packed my room early, quickly, and inefficiently.
Today, I was reminded of just how lost I was. I sifted through the fog of student files and paperwork and the lists of incomplete evaluations. My wall decorations were stored haphazardly in all the cabinets on every shelf. I could physically see the disjointed thoughts that had driven me to make such a mess. I could also see how much stronger I have become since then.
I believe that I can do this. I also know that I’m not doing this alone. I am so fortunate and grateful to work with an amazing group of people who support and care for me. This week has consisted of so many hugs and so much love. I am in awe of the second family that I have acquired over the last 3 years. It truly takes a village to get a person through the horrors of cancer. I don’t know how people brave this fight alone.