I’m beginning this post the night before my first chemo session. Or as I prefer to call it: Cocktail Time! It sounds like more fun than chemo.
How am I doing? I’m fine. But my friend Dineen tells me that “fine” stands for: Fucked Up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional. I admit that I’m a bit fucked up, and have been for years. I’m not insecure or neurotic. I’m not emotional.
For those that don’t know, I’m a girl with a pretty bad ass exterior. I stay calm, cool and collected in moments of stress. I pride myself on being strong like a lion. When I am weak, I talk myself through with a suck it up attitude. Then suddenly I had a moment when my exterior was slipping.
Last week I was suddenly anxious and emotional about chemo. Why? I have no clue. Perhaps emotions had built up in me. So, I reached out to a friend who tends to snap me out of silly emotions with his sensibility and cut the crap attitude. When I explained that I was a bit out of control and so nervous, he was nice and sweet. He listened to me and gave me gentle feedback. WHAT THE HELL? That’s NOT what I wanted! I wanted him to say “Cut the shit Heather! Since when did you become a weak-ass?” But it never came.
I told him that I hadn’t told many people about what was going on. I don’t want it to become a “thing” or for it to define me. He told me that I needed to get the word out and let everyone help me through this. I needed to swallow my pride and to let friends do what they do. I guess it resonated with me because here I am, sharing with everyone. That is, If you choose to read this.
I’ll update this post tomorrow, with what I hope are tales of what it’s like to have five hours of nonstop cocktails. My fingers are crossed that it involves strippers like cocktails did back in the day!