The Selfie Project Just Got Real

BOOM.

So, I kind of left you guys high and dry on the selfie project. Turns out, I'm not the narcissist I thought I was. I know, its hard to imagine when I have an entire blog, JUST about me. But, I was feeling kind of self conscious about the lack of hair, the strange style, and the left over puffiness from chemo and 'roids. My hair has grown out a lot and the pic above was the first day I really felt like I did before I lost my hair. As if it weren't just a bad haircut or that I was a cancer patient. More like I was some brave, pixie cutted hottie. I felt fantastic. So, there must be a little bit of egomania in there. 

I feel better, but still out of sorts in a way. I think it might be emotional and not physical. In many ways, having cancer is a lot easier than NOT having it. When you have cancer, everyone is watching you, waiting. I have developed a recurring nightmare where the cancer comes back or I get secondary cancer. I would like to say it means nothing, but I wake up terrified, in a cold sweat. 

I feel compelled to talk a little bit more about the piece I wrote for Women's Health. It has really got me thinking about strength, character, and what we are made of. Before I had cancer, no one told me I was strong. In fairness, my life was not what I would have called difficult. In fact, I was probably due for a few challenges. I think God or the Universe got kind of confused and decided to hit me with it all at once, but I was always ok with it being that way. I had my chemo and my main man Dr. Sehbai. I was scared and lost sometimes, but I wasn't really afraid the cancer would win. I had my family and my boy to live for, and I was young, and the cure rate was high, so why would I be concerned? 

People seem to have this idea of me that I am some kind of superwoman. Like I said, this has really stirred up the feelings and thoughts inside of me. I think I have touched on this in posts in the past, reiterating that I don't think I'm strong, and even asking for help and support at times. Not that this makes you weak. I'm getting off track here, but listen. I am nothing without you. To the ones in the trenches, even the ones I never saw: the pathologists and phlebotomists, the nurses and volunteers and of course Dr. Sehbai, holding my hand, cheering me on, and picking me up when I went splat on the ground, cause there were a few of those days, too. To my family and friends and the countless blog readers and followers on social media, to the complete strangers from the What To Expect forums who made me feel like family and acted as my own personal pep squad. To the women on my support group who became like sisters to me. You need to know that you are my strength. You are what made this possible, as illogical as that sounds. 

When I was down, you lifted me up. You sent me custom ice cream and mini pom poms and Lush treats and cards, some of you, a card every week (here's to you, my beautiful survivor friend, Laura.) You visited and called and told me I was beautiful when I had a horrible bald head with zits all over it and a puffy face from steroids. 

I am humbled by your strength. Without you, I really would be nothing. Thank you. 

Stay tuned for an epic Jack update this week.