I Am No Super Human Void of Pain and Suffering

The last few days have been hard. I’ve been swept away by a lot of heavy feelings of grief as the reality of the next few months sets in.

Although I’m grateful I’ve had more energy the last week and the bone pain is gone, the fatigue I feel is something hard to explain. It’s deep in the layers of my skin, down to the bone. It’s hard to get a good flow doing much of anything and right now, my workdays look a bit like scattered dust blowing in the wind.

My hair is starting to fall out too. I’m lucky I have a lot of it but every time I get out of the shower and run a comb through it I’m met with having to say goodbye to a good handful of my identity.

Oh the weight gain and muscle loss. I’ve always been very active. I’ve climbed the tallest mountain in the lower 48 and finished 3rd in my age group in triathlons. Now I can barely recognize my body in the mirror and get winded walking up the stairs. It’s a hard adjustment. To look in the mirror and see a stranger at times.

I’m angry and sad. I find myself kicking and screaming inside that my life has to be paused in such an extreme way once again.

I was just getting back on track from my last cancer (6 years later) and from my hysterectomy two and a half years ago. I was finally able to grow my hair long. I found a way to move my body and was seeing older versions of her here and there. She was coming back alive.

I don’t go to this place often anymore because despite all of it, I’ve learned to find a lot of joy in the life that I now have.

But these feelings, This grief, it’s important too. And I’ll let it wash through me. And I’ll honor its purpose.

Because I’m human.

And cancer treatment is traumatic.

All of this is traumatic.

And I am no super human void of pain and suffering.

I am, grieving.