Lately I’ve been so involved with my own stuff that I haven’t surfaced to see what’s going on in the world around me. Understandable, sure. But it’s kinda like I’ve been in this bubble and every once in a while, I feel well enough to pop my head out and look around to see life outside my bubble.
And the thing I am most aware of feeling is how wonderful it is to have some normal in my life.
The boys are still running around doing their things. My husband is still grappling with several scripts. The bird is still chirping incessantly. In my world, life is normal. And that is fantastic!
Although the intensity of the first infusion has passed, I never get too far away from the effects of chemo. I’ve developed a rash that stings my face. I feel it all the time. Ouch. And now I have sores in my mouth and it hurts to brush my teeth. All results from the medications swirling through my body.
But even harder is the tough time my younger son is having with my pending hair loss. We’re counting down now. My hair is expected to begin falling out next week, so I’ve opted to avoid the slow loss and shave my head. I’ve noticed that whenever my son is around me and snuggling, he’s touching and caressing my hair. (Yes, he’s 10 and he still snuggles, thank goodness!) It may be an unconscious thing, or maybe not. But he is very aware of what’s to come. He has asked if we can keep my hair in a jar. My sweet boy. I’m doing everything I can to help him with this transition, but wonder what his takeaway from all of this will be? I’m reminded he has his own journey.
So this is my new normal. I find myself frustrated (still) with the state of our world, arguing with my boys about devices, worrying about school, musical theatre, gymnastics, money; all of those things that occupied my mind pre-cancer. And I love it.
To be able to experience all of this with my family and friends, to witness my kids grow, my husband find solutions to scripts and hear the birds chirps. It’s all wonderfully normal. And I’m so grateful.