embracing felicity is hard

Embracing felicity is hard throughout this journey. Most days I do okay, but others, I still want to scream, cry and ask God why. Almost 6 years later and I still struggle with the whole grief process. What are there, 5 stages…yeah, I hit 3. Bargaining and depression aren’t in my game plan right now, although those might be easier to manage than the anger and denial.

Those that have followed me here for any length of time, know parts of my cancer story (if you don’t, see here). For those that I am friends with on Facebook, you already know what I am about to say next. Maybe. I’ve said a few things, but haven’t really came out and “said” it. I wasn’t ready to fully face it yet, I suppose.

On January 15th, we made the decision that it is time to start chemo. I knew it was coming, but it still hit me like a ton of bricks. I am doing my famous turtle move, where I suck up into my shell and hide. It’s my coping mechanism and while I agree, it isn’t the best one to have, it is what it is right now. I come out when I am ready to face the world again.

There is a tiny sliver of me that is excited though. Excited at the prospect of seeing some light at the end of this long tunnel. The prospect of feeling better. Even perhaps normal, although I have no clue what that even is anymore.

This week I have a bone marrow biopsy and then in early March, I have my routine labs plus another CT scan (oh yay…gag). After that, I see Dr. T and if all looks well, I will be scheduled to get a port put in (let’s keep my veins nice and healthy please, thank you) and chemo started thereafter. So, we are looking at late March/early April timeframe.

My chemo will be FCR (fludarabine, cyclophosphamide and rituximab) and should be 5-6 months long. It looks as if there are 3 infusion days per round and each round will be 28 days apart. Or that’s I how I understand it at the moment. Apparently the Rituxan part comes from mice…at least a bit of it does. Okay then. If I start squeaking or have an insane craving for cheese, I guess we will know why. Dr. T says I shouldn’t lose my hair and that is good news. As vain as it might be, I like having hair.

I can tell, Bryan is struggling with the thought of me going through chemo and I hate the added stress this puts on his plate. I always tell him he should have bought an extended warranty on me. :-) Jacey seems to be handling the news okay thus far. She still wants to get me a purple wig, in hopes that I actually do lose my hair. Comedy has always been her coping mechanism.

We will persevere and make it through though. We always do.

Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him. James 1:12

If you’d like to read up about CLL and learn more, see here or here.