Raising a teen while on the cancer journey can be tough. There are times I want to scream, “I may not be here as long as you think”, so lets not fight, give me all those kisses I want and let’s always be happy with one another. I want to protect her against the possibility she could lose her mom one day and have regrets. But that’s just unfair to her.
I’ve protected her from many of my treatments, pains and fears. I try to be authentic, but leave the intimate parts of my journey for my husband, close friends and family. Instead, I enjoy every moment of the great times we have together, the lessons that can still be learned and always tell her I’m sorry, ask for forgiveness and forgive her when one of us blows it.
We all really don’t know when our time is done here on earth, cancer just makes you feel like you do. I think my girl will one day look back and know I loved her so very much through those sometimes challenging teen years and I hope I’m still by her side driving her crazy when she does.
When your son ask to go to dinner and a movie, you’re willing to sit through 2 and a half hours of a dusty shoot-’em-up western.
Dress-Topshop. Shoes-Kenneth Cole. Clutch-Anthropologie. Jewelry-Vintage.
When your son wants to join you for dinner with a “friend”.
Behind my pictures of cute outfits there is a women who feels weak and at times as though she could break in half. I believed I needed to get strong to work on being strong again.
I’m not sure where I found the strength to drag my weary and broken body into a spin and yoga class, once again shielding the outside of myself with the correct attire, but today I completed my second week.
Each class has reconnected me to my body, the miracle it is and the love I had lost for it. I’m forgiving it for letting me down and realizing I might not have control over the diseases that could attack it, but I certainly do with the strength I can build to confront them.
As I approach my one year anniversary of my Stem Cell Transplant and remission, I think I might just have to celebrate by doing one mean downward doggie right there in the middle of the courtyard at City Of Hope.
Have fun honey, I’m sure I’ll be able to entertain myself.
Nothing like a little dressing room fun when you’re on your own.
From the beginning of my cancer journey I’ve wanted nothing to do with ribbons, bracelets or anything that advertised away from my blog that I had Multiple Myeloma. I would be happy to support you. I wore an FU cancer bracelet for a friend, but for my own cause, no thanks!
I am so grateful to the charitable community that has raised millions in support of finding cures and supporting these amazing hospitals. I’ve just never wanted to raise my own cancer flag, possibly making me realize every time I look at it, that it’s me that needs the cure.
Today while in the hospital gift shop, one I have gone into many times over this past year and a half, I noticed the glass jars filled with the different colors representing each cancer City Of Hope treats. I walked over and decided to look at what color represents me. It actually shook me up, why didn’t I know? To my surprise there was my jar and could it be, HOT PINK!
Was my hot pink obsession, the accent color in my home, the color I’ve been drawn to my whole life, the color of my cancer? Has every road led me here? Something deep inside told me yes.
“Together We Will Find A Cure” is what my bracelet says. I have Multiple Myeloma and I want to be in this together.
I have a new hot pink bracelet, ask me about it next time you see me.