So I've been procrastinating on this post…
It’s a calm before the storm, but not really calm, more like, catch up. The last few weeks have been crazy- a whirlwind of travel and emotions.
So, where to begin?
In February, mom (Elaine Cheesmond), Izzy and I were planning a trip to England. Low key and catch up sort of trip, the kind that happens just because it’s long overdue. It was hard lying to mom and dad, finding every excuse in the book why we hadn’t committed to dates and tickets, knowing in my heart the world had other plans but not being able to share that until we had all the facts. (Joel and I agreed that was only fair)… not to mention that Tomas Cheesmond, Leanne and the kids where heading that way, so we knew that our British fam jam had visitors, kid excitement and a delivery of maple syrup.
Fast forward. Obviously, the world had other plans for me and the trip was postponed. With the consent of the oncologist and surgeon, I was granted permission to travel as long as my blood work cooperated. I had been lucky my nasty immune booster shot after every chemo had kept me in the green all the way through treatment, so I didn’t have any concerns.
No jungle cruises on the conga, but a jaunt to the UK and back via Bordeaux was approved (no harm in excess tea drinking and I was even told a relaxing glass of red wine also wouldn’t hurt).
We all knew that physically this would be a challenge, but emotionally rewarding. To any reading this, it’s funny those two things are equally important but don’t always work in harmony. For me, it was going to be a a small price to pay. Maybe it’s because I am stubborn. Maybe, it was because I wanted to feel normal.
Maybe, it was because I could live with the fact there were a lot of people I just needed a hug from… I wanted Izzy to meet with me… and in no way, do I feel that I'm not going to beat cancer, but the peace of mind knowing I had done it was (although secretly until now) important to me.
The window of opportunity was tight. Driven by hospital requirements and flight availability. Step one: you can’t travel within two weeks of finishing chemo. Step two: you really want to be present for an event, because some really important people in my life decided to nominate me for an award. Step three: surgery has to happen within six weeks. It was like a math equation, and yes, it had a spreadsheet.
The list of people was too long for the time I had. The balance of visiting and relaxing wasn’t equal. The polite and flattering requests were continuing to flood in and the pressure was building.
We can do it- WE- everyone knows my mother is a rock star, but this was next level. A cancer patient (I fricking hate those words -censored because Gran might read this), a spicy 4 year old, and luggage to the UK, then France. She’s nuts.
From the beginning to the very end, the trip was a once in a lifetime. There were days I forgot I was sick. There were days I’ve never felt sicker. There was an overture of constant guilt. Like, next level guilt… wanting to spend more time with people, wanting to see more people, wanting a little alone time, inconveniencing people, scheduling people, wondering if we should have stayed home, should have left earlier and missed the event, wanting more cheese, wine and baguette… It was excruciating… a pain unexplainable with little to compare. But looking back, I just hope people know it’s because I care. Like, next level care.
So where is Joel?
Thank God, taking care of himself for once. On a fishing trip with his dad, his best friend in the world, and hopefully having a few minutes where his life wasn’t scheduling appointments and thinking about all of this. (Thanks papa for taking care of him in wildfires and detached outboard motor moments Ian Giddy!!)
Hard. Some days we drive each other crazy, but being apart was HARD. Add to that, Miah had just done a trip with her mommy south and in all honesty, I couldn't have her miss more school or have the strength to bring her. She is a beautiful, caring and smart cookie. I explained it, she understood it, there are more trips to come… and it will be costly, I know!!! I appreciate her ability to negotiate more when it’s not with me.
Right now, I'm sat in a chair given to me to use by an awesome Rotary friend, looking at wedge pillows, button-up shirts and Gatorade.
Tomorrow is surgery.
A milestone I have been eagerly awaiting and dreading all at the same time.
It will be fine, and I thank you all for your words of support. Some of the things people have shared have blown me away… thank you for your belief in me, your love for me.
So below is the humour for the day.
They say a picture is worth a thousand worlds so I'm not going to type anymore. I'm going to hot tub with the girls and Joel before heading to the farm. My ask is simple: be patient with us. We will update everyone when the time is right.
So, bye bye bad boobs.
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