Hello, fellow readers and bloggers. I know its been a while since I’ve said much about anything. Starting the week after my transplant, my days have run on and on against each other and I don’t even know what day it is quite often.
TMI moment coming up: Stop right here if you don’t wanna read about it. My soapbox, remember? Ladies and gentlemen, I have been suffering from various viruses and GVHD. These have all caused and continue to cause severe diarrhea and nausea with vomiting. Which all course has lead to me losing so much weight and three subsequent hospital stays. Sixty-six pounds lost to be exact at this point. I know what you’re thinking, especially you girls! You will not believe how many women have told me how good I look. GOOD?? I usually just nod and change the subject. Listen up ladies, I would much rather have lost weight the right way or be a happy, healthy, chubby bunny. Had I been given the decision to lose the weight via my own will power or because of a horrific disease, I would have definitely picked the first one. So please don’t compliment me on the weight loss. Its not something I’m particularly proud of.
My transplant day of November 16, 2012 was my miracle day. God gave me a second chance at life through my own father’s stem cells. Little did I know that that gloriously, happy day would turn into the most nightmarish months of my life. I cannot describe how hard it has been to just get from sunrise through sunset every day. Its a constant struggle between my mind, my emotions, my physical strength, and begging God to end my misery.
The reflection in the mirror deceives me with my gaunt face, sunken eyes, pale skin, and newly growing hair that doesn’t know which direction it wants to go. I don’t recognize this girl and she scares me. Cancer and treatment do some pretty horrible things to the body. My skin is forever dry and I feel like I leave a blanket of snow every time I get up. I have bruises all over my arms from having blood drawn every day. I look like I just got initiated into a gang with all these bruises.
Food just doesn’t taste the same right now. Things I used to love to eat make me feel nauseated now. There’s not much of a selection for me to eat either that won’t cause said diarrhea or sudden onset of nausea. It sounds like a prison menu. No dairy, no fresh fruits or vegetables, no fried foods, no greasy foods, nothing spicy, no whole grains, and the list goes on. I think prisoners might have it better than me now that i think about it. There’s a constant bad taste in my mouth from all the medication and chemo effects.
The steroids have made me lose so much muscle mass, it’s so tiring to do simple things like brushing my teeth or getting my shoes on. Even talking is a challenge. Typing this is making my arms burn and I can barely keep my fingers from shaking enough to do it. Everything leaves me out of breath. Everything.
This is why I’ve been away so long. Yes, I’ve screened my phone calls. Yes, I’ve tucked myself away into my own little nook. But I’m not sorry. I need time and time alone to get better and to be alone with God while I try to figure out what it is He wants to show me through all of this suffering. Yes, my life is an open book, but this book is gonna take a little longer to be written. Like the great M.J. said in his song, I need to make a change for once in my life and I’m starting with the girl in the mirror.
I bought a guitar.