I was in the bathroom today and because of the way I was standing and the way the light was coming into the room, I was suddenly aware of the return to regular-life-ness of my eyelashes.
And then I remembered what life was like a year ago, as they slowly fell out, one by one.
This post-chemo era is a funny time.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not nostalgic for the thigh-slappin’ good times that chemo provides.
It’s just that now, everything seems all normal on the outside and I feel like I spend so much time scrambling to keep up with real life, and to also take the time to think about all the things that happened last year.
Sometimes it’s easy to get lost.
In fact, it’s probably easier to get lost now than it was last year, because I am more on my own now.
And that’s not a complaint. It’s an observation.
Sometimes it’s all a little overwhelming.
And, even if I am bouncing back, things are pretty scrambled on the inside.
It’s funny, because I seem to be pretty open about talking about the whole cancer escapade, and I find many people look at me with a sort of polite horror, not unlike wiping dog crap across a white carpet with your shoe.
People seem so freaked out about it, I start to wonder if I should just shut up about it.
Don’t wanna spoil their buzz, after all.
And then I start to feel like I am just getting all dramatic and making shit up, cuz explaining it to the non-cancerous civilians, well, it can all start to sound a bit dramatic and even I think I am full of crap.
It’s all very weird.
I am very grateful that these other gals who went through the OVCA nightmare are out there, blogging and keeping it real.
There is some sort of validation I get from that that I don’t get other places.
And I have this feeling that we are doing this very interesting thing to the whole experience of cancer, us OVCA bloggers.
Mark my words, folks… this is about a type of patient empowerment and I think it matters a lot.
So, thanks, gals.
You make the strange trip a whole lot easier.