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.
I dunno.
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.
