Team DeAnne

Woo Hoooo!!!!  I’m so happy!  Chemo…been there, done that!  AND, lived to tell the tale!  I’m here to tell everyone that yes, chemo is a different experience for each person who needs it.  But I’m the biggest wimp in the world, and if this ever happens to you or someone you love, tell them you know of a really wimpy girl and she survived it, and so can anyone!

People make me nervous when they say how brave they think I am.  I kid you not, I wimped and whined my way through, even before the treatments started…come the think of it, especially before they started!)  I don’t deal with even the slightest form of discomfort without beoming very unpleasant to be around.  I don’t take change well at all.  I may roar and swagger around, but it’s usually just a big show.  That  is why, of all race distances I prefer the marathon…I know it sounds strange, but in a marathon, I can wimp out.  When the going gets tough, no one thinks anything of it if they see me parked on the side of the road eating the blackberries growing over the fence.  Once when I pulled my blackberry-eating stunt in a 1oK, however, a race official was alarmed that I wasn’ running fast like the others, and sent the “roadkill crew” out to pick me up.  (That was my first 10K, and also when I learned that not all races are run in the same manner…)  A marathon is all about pacing and eating and drinking, and keeping your attitude in gear.  The way I eat and sightsee my way through a course, I even make merry while I eat and drink.  It’s not an uncomfortable sort of effort.  That’s why towards the end of chemo I was comparing it mre to speedwork, which I enjoy, but  it isn’ t ever about eating, drinking and making merry.  Speedwork is about making your body meet the demands of the challenge, not about being comfortable over the long haul!   But I digress!

The day after my last infusion, I looked in the mirror as I was putting on sunblock and my pink cap that I wear when I run.  I don’t look so good.  But I also don’t look so bad, either.  I understand that while I may be done with chemo, it may not be done with me, just yet.  For a few more weeks I’ll probably continue to look sort of weird.  Oh, well!  (I repeat…I’ve lived whole decades looking weird…like, uh, adolescence?!  Or the lovely years between ages 7 and 13, when Daddy’s little “Princess Moonbeams” was transmogrified my some virus that the toad she kissed shared…funnly-looking, with braces and headgear and choppy short haircut.  The boys that I played little league with didn’t even know I was a girl.)  Needless to say, if I have to look weird for a while longer, it’s OK, because I’ve been there, done that.  I can do it for a bit longer.

I may not look like my old self, but I’ m starting to feel normal again!  For instance, I’m generally a peaceful sort of person.  I avoid confrontation.  But for some reason, I will argue to the death about the stupidest things with my mother.  Though I avoid debating and arguing, I’m pretty good at it.  Ironically, the one person I can’t win is the one I argue with the most, my Mom!  When I wasn’t feeling so well, I didn’t have the energy to fight.  Now, though, if she says black, I say white.  It’s like a reflex.  I know I shouldn’t argue with her, or anyone…but the first time I started getting mouthy about two weeks ago, she was almost happy about it, because I was starting to sound like the DeAnne we all knew and loved.  Hahaha!

Anyhow, the day after my last infusion, I drove out to the redwoods.  That place is like church for me.  It’s where I go to heal my mind.  Just knowing I was done with chemo was enough for me to feel light and easy on my feet as I headed out on the trail!  I went up the hill where I hadn’t been able to go without walking part of it since about the time of the 3rd infusion.  It was almost like a reflex to stop and walk at this one curve in the trail.  But not today!!!  I thought to myself, “Hey!  You don’t need to walk anymore!  You’re not on chemo!  Getcher happy a– up that hill!”  And I gleefully charged up the hill, stifling the urge to whinney like a horse!

I trotted out to the picnic area, and there was my mom, out for a walk and a picnic with an old friend.  Perfect timing!  I sat down with them and ate all their food, then ran back to my car.  Aw, shoot, I’d left my keys back on the picinc table!  Wht did I do?  Well, a week before, I would have had to hope they saw the keys and drove them out to me.  ( I STill have the bad habit of forgetting to take my phone with me.)  But not today!  I RAN back to get my keys, and yes, I ran back to the car.  Unstoppable!  That’s me!  I feel better, and now I just have this urge to take to my feet and migrate like a wildebeast every day!

I tried to sing a few days later.  The thing I love the most is the scariest.  The neuropathy in my hands nd feet was present but not unbearable.  I am finally able to play the piano again.  But singing was scary.  The chemo left my voice tired and stiff and dry, no matter how much water I drank.  Being so tired, I wasn’t always breathing and placing and supporting everything right.  AFter the second round f chemo, I decided to not sing aloud, lest I should develop bad habits.  My teacher and I agreed that dying dormant was better than developing a whole new set of quirks.  Then there was also my narcoleptic tendencies while on chemo.  I would possibly make it ino San Francisco for my lesson, but then would be so exhausted I’d need to take a nap before driving home! 

Well, no more lying dormant!  My voice, after a few tentative scales and arpeggios is…not so different!  Oh, what a relief!  There was so much that could change and or go wrong…and after 3 days of gentle vocalising, I’m not having to get acquainted with a new instrument…it’s just my same old voice, just dormant for a while!  I wont’ have to learn how to live as a baritone!!!  Hallelujah! 

And now, I really should get a few hours of sleep, because I’m off to connecticut with th parentals tomorrow, to meet my new baby nephew!  My life is so full of miracles!  Team DeAnne, we did it!  I know we started celebrating about a week before the finnish line…it’s good to just celebrate all the time, because you never know what the next day will bring, right?!  But right now, each new day seems to bring us more little miracles, one of which I’m going to see and hold and snuggle with and fuss over, until Saturday!

Lucky me!

This entry was posted on Tuesday, June 1st, 2010 at 2:59 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.