Family

A few days have gone by, and I feel the fatigue and general malaise setting in. On the positive side, however, I am proud to report that I have remained pretty active. Sitting around feeling bad and sorry for myself is not really my modus operandi anyway. Every morning, no matter how tired I am, I force myself to get up, take a shower, and put on make-up and do my hair. So long as I still have my hair, I am going to make sure that I do it every day. No need to prevent split ends, or use special expensive moisture shampoo for long hair. I wash it, dry it, and style it- let's just damage the hell out of it before it falls out.

We even went to South Coast Plaza today, to buy Evan some new shoes. He has already outgrown his size 6!  It is amazing how much he has grown. He is the reason I can get through my days, filling them with laughter and joy. I am so lucky to be his mother.

My little man!

But tonight, my heart is hurting. And no, I don't mean the kind of pain that might serve as the focus of a Lifetime movie special. I mean, it literally hurts, as if someone had reached in and squeezed it, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom-style. Joe says it could be from the steroids (or the tapering thereof), or perhaps from the chemo, but hopefully it will pass soon.

In the meantime, we received an update on our little fertility project. My doctor was able to harvest 12 eggs, 10 of which survived and were fertilized. My sister asked Joe if we were trying to start a softball team. Eight were genetically tested, and we're still waiting for the results. I had heard from my friend (who had undergone fertility treatments) that after the eggs were tested, they were given a rating from 1-10. She had the "10" eggs implanted. I'm hoping to get at least 2 with the "10" score. We shall see what the testing brings. I have a follow-up tomorrow, but it feels a bit strange going back. The whole fertility experience seems eons ago. So much has happened since then, even though it has been only about 10 days.

There are a lot of things on my mind these days, with my family being a constant. My parents are not handling the cancer diagnosis well, and being a parent myself, I can understand how hard it must be to see your child in pain and be helpless to stop it. My parents came by today, and I had casually asked my mom if she wanted to take a quick picture with me.

"Why?" she asked, happy that I wanted a picture together.

"Because I want to take at least one together while I still have my hair," I told her calmly.

"When do you think you will lose it?" she asked, slightly shocked at my response.

"The doctor said about two weeks after I start chemo, so maybe next week, I think," I said.

"So what are you going to do? Who is going to cut it? Are you going to ask Hector?" she asked. Hector has been my hairdresser and friend for over 12 years now.

"No, I think that Joe and Catherine will do it," I responded.

"Do you have clippers?" my dad asked, desperate to be helpful. " I have some if you need it."

"No, I don't think that is a good idea," my mom said. "Joe does not know how to cut hair. What if Joe makes it ugly?"

I looked at my mom, totally amused. "Um, Mom, how can he mess it up?" I asked her with a teasing voice. "I think there is one way to shave it."

My mom laughed. "Oh, right."

How my mom still sees me.

Later this evening, at about 11:00 pm, she called my sister in a stark panic, saying that I was going to shave my head tonight. She told me sister she was sure of it because I had asked to take a last picture with her. It made me so sad. She was crying, and upset, thinking that I would have to go through the trauma of the haircut without her. She wants to shield me, as if I were still her little girl, from all the pain and hurt that can touch me in this world. I wish I could ease that pain for her.

My sister has been deeply worrying me as well. She has been my support, my help, my friend, and my champion ever since the diagnosis. She has yet to falter, or show any sign of sadness or weakness. I am so grateful that she is here. So grateful she has taken the time off work to be here for this first round of chemo. I do not know what I would have done without her. She has been such a blessing to me, Evan, and Joe. I just wish there was more that I could do to help her through this hard time. She has been struggling to deal with her own feelings and issues, and I feel so much responsibility and despair when I see her sad. I guess it is an older sister thing, but I still want to protect her forever. And, of course, make fun of her at the same time. It is a penchant that an older sibling will never outgrow. :)

"Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, [and] endures all things."

May God bless this sad, strong, but loving family.