I’ve decided I ‘m not fighting anymore.

I’m not a warrior.

Im not kicking Cancer’s ass.

I’m not going to war or getting through the battle.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to do every treatment they send me to, eat every healthy thing I can, and visualize myself here in thirty years.

But I’m not using those terms.

When I was first diagnosed I got a book called the Silver Lining of cancer. It was all about how to prep for chemo, surgery, hair loss, etc. I put it away because it was too painful to look at it after the stage four diagnosis, knowing that I was “too far advanced” to have these treatments.

Suddenly, a window has opened and a chance has been given and here I am, reading the books I put away.

My oncologist and nurse got right back to us and feel it could be the nasty summer flu that has hit simultaneously with the first chemo round, because, hey… why not?

I went to my mom and dads yesterday and had Deja vu from when I was pregnant. I had hyperemesis gravidarum and they helped me stay hydrated and do whatever needed to keep the babies alive.

Now? We are all bucking up to do whatever is needed to keep me alive. Scott and sandy got my kids, maddie had a great first day, jill got me the most amazing cold watermelon,lemon, ginger, Manuka honey smoothie from Paula and the Giving Room, my brother Rob and I texted about who was stronger, and my friends held my hand through texts and messages.

I came home and robs parents came to help him. His mom ran and got me chicken noodle soup and crackers and made me two bowls. They said they loved my hair. Rob is my rock, but even a rock needs a soft place to land, and his mom and dad are landing pad number two for us.

Summer son Joe came home and he asked right away how the kids have been handling it, especially Quinn. We filled him in and he is here for the journey.

So there I was, starting to perk up a little, and realized… I’m not fighting. There has been no battle.

Because I am surrounded by so much love.

So…much.

There is no room for love in any fight.

I’m not going to make light of this either. I’ll still laugh, but no jokes about new boobies, save the tatas etc. We don’t do that for testicular cancer, or bladder cancer. My breasts have been something I longed for when I learned about puberty. I waited longer than my friends. I’ve worn miracle bras and push up bras. Now? I’m doing chemo to shrink the large tumors I feel inside of the breast so they can shrink and we can remove them. Let’s not joke about amputations. As for the war, you don’t tell heart patients to go kick some ass before surgery, or diabetic patients to get ready for battle. For some reason when women get breast cancer, suddenly these women who have had this news thrust into their lives are expected to become warriors, when they really want to just live their lives. “Let’s drop you in the arena, remove your breasts and hair, and see you become a warrior! Release the Kraken!”

The hair thing has been hard as well. “Hey! You look great and now maybe you get to live!” or “It will grow back!” Listen, I’ve always loved my hair long. Now? It’s short, the scalp hurts which means it’s getting ready to fall out, and on top of that, my eyebrows and eyelashes will fall out too. This is not what I would choose as a look. I cut my hair short in eighth grade and regretted it instantly. Ask any of my hairdressers about the cut I’ve always asked for…”Just a trim, like, a teeny tiny bit.”

I’m doing what I can to make it easier on my children. Rob keeps telling me he doesn’t care. I truly think he doesn’t. He just loves me.

Just… me.

So I’m not in a battle.

I’m not a warrior.

I’m not kicking ass.

None of those terms feel like me.

I guess because I don’t feel like me.

I’m not who I was.

I’m transforming.

Regenerating.

Breaking down my whole body from the inside out, in hopes of building a stronger one. At the breathwork class we learned you get a whole new body every seven years. I’m starting from Ground Zero so to speak and speeding it up.

I’m walking along this path, a path that has had so many twists and turns, drops and mountains.

But along the way I’ve met many beautiful souls, had Jesus enter my heart, and God is holding me in the palm of His hand.

So no….

I’m not kicking ass.

I’m being supported and surrounded by love as I go through this transformation. I’m praying that everything that is happening is God’s plan and he is continuing to refine me.

Strip me bare, then heal me.

Today I’m feeling better, and going to get my eyes checked, as well as Quinn.

I once was blind, but now I see…

Amazing Grace.

Amen.

Xoxo

Keri