amy

     I received my second round of chemo on Friday, February 25. My appointment was at 8:30am. The night before my past two chemo appointments have felt strange. Normally, taking a day off work is an exciting thing for me. However, taking off work for chemo has felt the opposite of exciting. So, I have felt this in between state of “feeling excited because I don’t have to go to work the next day” and “not looking forward to a full day at the West Cancer Clinic”.      My mom and I arrive at the West Cancer Clinic and check in. The building is more crowded than I would have expected. That feeling of “I don’t belong here” is still present. I am the youngest one in the building. When people look at me I wonder if they know I am the one with cancer or if they think I am supporting my Mom.      After waiting in the lobby for a few minutes, I get a text message telling me to “proceed through the infusion door for treatment”. My nurse for the day greets me and takes me to my chair where I w

       The days and weeks after my diagnosis feel like a dark dream. I was in the height of Christmas preparations, both at school and personally. What was normally my favorite time of year now felt covered in a dark cloud. There was no way I could feel happy.      Mentally, I felt like I was given the job of completing an obstacle course blindfolded. The job is personal and invasive because I’m blindfolded and I have no idea when it will end. I knew so little about breast cancer and how best to treat it. I had no idea how I was going to continue working or how I was going to afford any of it. I was scared and sad to not be able to do my normal fun things with friends. I worried how my body would respond to it all.      Nobody wants to spend their Christmas break completing an obstacle course blindfolded (Okay, maybe some of you – but not this obstacle course). One thing that’s hard is that going through this is not a choice I’m making. Of course, no one would choose this. I

     Y’all. My Mom. She has been ALL IN researching, communicating, going to appointments with me, taking care of me, cooking for me, shopping for me, feeding me, and more. I am so thankful for my team of people supporting me.      One thing recently that I’ve been thankful for is my mom’s help in adding pieces to my home to make it more the way I want it. I’ll be spending more time in my home than usual, so it’s been nice to continue to invest in my home and make it a space that brings me joy and warmth.      We’ve been organizing some and adding pieces like a velvet green chair from IKEA for my living room, a shelf in my dining area for my microwave to free up counter space, a shelf for shoes, and a rug and lamp in my room. I really like how things are looking.      I am also thankful for my friend Jacquel who builds and paints canvases for wall decorations. She is working on making a piece for one of the walls in my living room. Really all the love I have received through care p

       Lately I’ve had moments of feeling both strong and weak. This past week I have felt physically the best I’ve felt since starting chemo. I haven’t experienced any major side effects in the past week. I have been able to run and exercise. BUT, I have also had more hair falling out than ever before. So I’m experiencing this combination of feeling both strong and weak.      The hair loss started on Sunday morning. Any time I comb my hair or take a shower, my hair comes out. I have mentally tried to prepare myself for going bald. Even with cold capping, I know several people who still lost their hair. So, right now, it feels like I am doing everything I can to keep my hair as long as possible. It feels like, in a sense, trying to hold on to whatever normalcy I can for as long as possible. Trying to hold onto my “pre-cancer appearance”.      Even with me knowing that I was going to lose my hair from chemo, it’s still a hard process. Seeing and experiencing hair falling out is a v

     I’ve learned a lot through this journey so far. Two things that stand out to me are: the power of vulnerability and the power of community. I believed vulnerability and community were powerful before I was diagnosed with cancer but my appreciation for them has grown the past two months. I’ll start with vulnerability (although I see the power of vulnerability and community very much interconnected).      In the world we live in, it’s very easy and tempting to only share the parts of us that look good and put together. It is much harder to share our weaknesses and shortcomings. I think many of us fear that others will reject us or no longer value us when they see certains parts of us. I think this fear is one major barrier to vulnerability. My journey with cancer has been showing me the opposite. The journey is messy. I have been learning to see the beauty in the mess. I have seen beauty and encouragement come through sharing the mess with others and letting others in. This is rea

       My mind has been in a “hard to explain” state the past two months since my diagnosis. I remember wanting all of this to be a dream that I would wake up from. That was one of my biggest hopes the first month of my diagnosis – that it was all a dream I would wake up from and it would be gone. I know this isn’t the reality.      After this desire to be woken up from a terrible dream, comes all the questions and wonderings and worryings. Will I lose all my hair? How will my body change from all this medicine I am taking? Will I be able to finish the school year with my students? Will I be able to start a new school year in the fall? Will I be able to enjoy my summer break? Is my reaction to the first chemo as bad as it gets?      Currently I am learning to live in the in between. I am learning to live in the tension between holding all these questions and living one day at a time. This has looked like days following chemo spending hours sleeping. This has looked like slow walks wi

                                                        I arrived for my first Chemotherapy appointment at 7:15am Thursday, February 3. From start to finish, I woke up at 6am and went to bed around 10pm. My Mom came with me. I am so thankful because I cannot imagine going alone. It was an exciting start to my chemo treatments as Memphis had an ice storm that day. When we arrived, I went to the second floor for labs and then up to the third floor for my chemo infusion. There was a good bit of waiting in between my labs and my infusion. During this time, I responded to several texts from my loving friends and family. Although I was the youngest person there, I did not feel alone. I had my mom physically with me and so many people reaching out to let me know they were thinking of me and praying for me.      On the way to my appointment, I had mixed feelings. On one hand, I hated the fact that I even had to be going to this appointment. I felt scared because I had no idea how my body wou