Embracing the Journey: A Personal Reflection on Chemo and Resilience

The Transition from Summer to Fall

Summer has loosened its grip on us. It’s hot. Hotter in the sun. But the breeze is cool this evening, and the clouds provide enough shade to almost feel like fall.

All of that to say, there’s a “chemo disconnect kit” in my purse. I forgot to take it out when we got home yesterday. I’ll probably leave it until tomorrow when Julie’s pump starts beeping that it’s time to disconnect.

The Reality of Treatment

This is her fourth treatment. Honestly, it feels like each one hits her a little harder. She doesn’t complain. She refuses to feel sorry for herself, even when she’s sick to her stomach and curled into a ball on the couch. They said she should only feel tired for a day or two after each treatment.

Well, they said a lot of things. The likelihood of it all.

“You’ll probably sail through! You’re young and otherwise healthy. Should be pretty mild symptom-wise.”

The steroids give her heartburn. The chemo makes her queasy. Everything makes her tired. Still, she says she’s lucky. She’s happy for the new lease on life. Grateful.

The Impact of Hair Loss

And then… her hair started falling out. They told her it might “thin,” but I think we were both surprised by the sight of it. I saw it first—everywhere. All over the bathroom and in the sink. Honestly, I thought maybe she’d cleaned out her hairbrush or something. I couldn’t figure out why she’d just leave her hair lying about and said as much. It never occurred to me it was falling out. She didn’t even know.

Her hair is already cut short. She could shave it off and not really care. She’s gorgeous with or without hair. She’s not emotionally attached to it either way.

The Emotional Toll

Her whole demeanor changed, though. She doesn’t really want to talk about it—not at any real level. I think what bothers her is the same thing that bothers me about it. Or maybe I’m projecting…

Losing her hair means it’s working. It also means she might start to look and feel sick. We might have to actually acknowledge it. Adjust.

Admit.

Admit this is hard. Harder than it looks. Harder than we want to talk about. Harder than we want anyone to know.

The Importance of Acknowledging Feelings

Sometimes you just have to sit in your feelings. The rain is rolling in like it knows… we have some releasing to do. It’s all in God’s hands anyway.

Finding Strength in Vulnerability

In moments like these, vulnerability becomes a source of strength. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to admit that this journey is tougher than we anticipated.

When we allow ourselves to feel, we also allow ourselves to heal. Acknowledging our struggles can be the first step toward finding peace.

The Power of Support

Support from friends and family plays a crucial role in this journey. It’s essential to have a network of people who understand what you’re going through. They can provide comfort and encouragement when you need it most.

Whether it’s a simple text, a phone call, or a visit, knowing that others care can make a world of difference.

Embracing Change

Change is inevitable, especially during treatment. Embracing that change can be liberating. It’s an opportunity to redefine what beauty means.

Julie’s journey is a testament to resilience. She shows us that strength comes in many forms. It’s not just about physical appearance; it’s about the spirit within.

Looking Ahead

As we move forward, we must remember to cherish every moment. Each day is a gift. Every smile, every laugh, every tear is part of this journey.

We’ll continue to navigate this path together. There will be challenges, but there will also be joy.

In the end, it’s all about perspective. We can choose to focus on the difficulties or celebrate the victories, no matter how small.

Let’s choose joy. Let’s choose gratitude.

Note: If you are looking for resources or support, consider checking out this helpful link.