Does it ever sometimes feel like you can’t catch a break? Despite my best efforts, I’ve been feeling that way a lot lately and it’s made me grumpy. Well, grumpier than the steroids already have.

As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’ve been struggling with this chemotherapy regimen. I was almost excited to start this one because everyone said it was easier. They weren’t wrong – the chemotherapy itself seems to cause less side effects and the infusion takes less time. However, the big dose of steroids feels like it’s turning me into a completely different person (one that my family prefers to avoid). I laugh less, I worry more, I’m angry for no reason at all, and even I don’t recognize myself. So, not only do I not recognize the person in the mirror, I don’t even act like myself.

The doctor has authorized a bit of a decrease in the steroid dose. I’m crossing my fingers that we see some improvement. There may only be 10 more infusions until I’m done but that still means I have to ride this out until May. Not having any breaks during the regimen while also living my day-to-day life is also part of the issue. I can’t seem to catch my breath some days.

To add insult to injury, we picked up the stomach bug that has been circulating. All three kids got it so I’ve been getting my steps in the last few days. I ended up cancelling my treatment for this week so I could stay home and take care of them. I also didn’t want to get chemo and then get hit with the virus myself. So, another delay which means treatment will now go into May. But it had to be done.

It’s a lot. Getting chemotherapy while also doing all the normal things is a lot harder than I thought it would be. It’s been difficult keeping that positivity going, especially when it’s been so cold and gray outside. But as I sit here snuggling these kids that need me, I remember what I’m fighting for. Enduring the needles and the infusions and the side effects seems easy when I think about what these beautiful little people would have to face if I wasn’t able to fight like I am. The thought of not being here for them and my husband hurts my heart more than I want to think about.

I’ve felt a little lost these last few weeks, looking in the mirror and seeing the “cancer patient” instead of the “warrior.” When I look into the faces of the people I’m fighting so hard for, the reflection is a little bit clearer. My kids don’t see me as a sick person or a different person. They just see the person they love, the one they can depend on no matter what. We might all be a bit better off if we start seeing ourselves through the eyes of those that love us unconditionally.