Chemo has resumed after a two week delay. 1 out of 5 complete. It wasn’t quite smooth sailing but it’s done. I needed a rescue inhaler after lugging my cooler into the infusion suite. Then, halfway through chemo, the tube connected to one of the booties that ices my feet snapped. I ended up with a fountain of ice water in my lap. I walked out of there at the end looking like I wet myself. Thankfully, after the break I had, I was able to just laugh at the absurdity of it all so at least it was amusing for everyone. Hiccups don’t always have to be worrisome. That’s why they make kids giggle.

My breathing has drastically improved over the last week. Despite there supposedly being no signs of any inflammation in my lungs, the inhaler the pulmonologist gave me started to work wonders after a few days. I only experience difficulty breathing now if I exert myself too much (which, if you know me, you know is a daily occurrence). I’m doing my best to behave, though. I have another week left of the medication so we’ll see what happens when it’s gone. Cross your fingers that the answer is “nothing.”

My chemotherapy completion date is slowly creeping towards June. Not happy about it. Everyone got a glimpse of the “normal” me during this little break I had. It felt so good to be myself again. That’s how I want to feel this summer when the kids are home with me. I’m so ready to get back to feeling like someone who doesn’t have cancer.

I keep oscillating between wanting this to never have happened to me. I miss my old self. I miss my hair. I miss the way my body used to be and I miss just being able to get dressed without thinking too much about it. But I don’t miss the way I used to stress about every little thing, or that I would put off spending time with my kids because I was behind on laundry. And I certainly don’t miss the negative, pessimistic way I’d wait for the worst thing to happen at all times.

I feel like I’m in some sort of limbo right now. That will probably be true until the medication effects wear off and I get the final surgery. One step at a time, though. So onward and upward! I’m going to power through these last handful of treatments, enjoy the sunshine that is becoming a regular occurrence now that spring is in full swing, and just do my very best to be grateful for each day I’ve given. Remember: it’s only hard to be grateful if you tell yourself it is. And hiccups are funny! Just ask the kids you know.