Edge of the Cliff

Has it really been that long since a new post?  For the past 2 weeks I have been eating well, resting and getting over an infection.  Yesterday I spent 5 hours at an allergist's office determining that I'm not allergic to penicillan after all.  This is big and good news in case I get an infection when my white cell count falls from chemo.  I'm not planning on needing penicillan, but it's good to know that I can have it if something comes up.

Tomorrow is D day, or I guess I should say C day, as in chemo.

I bought a wig yesterday and I have to say it made me feel rather goofy, like, "Is it Halloween already?"  Mickey thinks it will be good for my self-esteem and maybe he's right, but for now it feels more like an outrageous costume.  And those damn things are expensive, you know?  But he pointed out that they cost less than 3-4 months of hair salon appointments.  I have a feeling the salon will prove to be a vastly more entertaining experience than chemo.

What is it about chemo that makes it more frightening than anything else I've been through?  Possibly it's because it's such a mystery.  No one can tell you how you'll react.  Every individual is supposed to handle it differently.  And no one knows why some people have some side effects and other people have others.  I guess, for me, it's like getting on an airplane and having to trust a faceless pilot with your safety.  Yep, I am afraid of flying.  It's that control thing.  But I get on an airplane because the lure of getting from point A to point B is stronger than my fear.  I have to get through chemo because the idea of manifestly knowing that I'm totally cancer-free is stronger than my fear of barfing for 3 months or anguish at losing (possibly forever) every attribute that makes me feel and/or look pretty.

And let me just say here that it shocks me how vain I am, but there it is.  I actually like having hair on my head for more than just warmth.  And my eyelashes are a family trait that I love to see in my boys, siblings and cousins, and I'm attached to them.  And my eyebrows are from my Great Grandma Ehrmantraut and I hardly ever have to pluck them.  I hope that if the possibility of dropping a few IQ points or losing some of my "heart" or "spirit" were a result of chemo, I would feel as badly.  But I think that as a woman, the idea of being attractive is an ancient pull--hair being your "crowning glory," for example.

I stand on the edge of a cliff.  Everything that went before is at my back and a new "normal" is hidden from my outward view.  And here's where I want to adopt the Chinese idea of "challenge/opportunity" being 2 sides of the same coin.

I have been a member of tut.com for a long time and get "Notes from the Universe" every day.  They're wonderfully positive, particularly if your faith system leans to the "less is more" idea regarding dogma.  Here is one note that I received recently and brings me comfort.

Joan, it's easy.  Your thoughts become things.  Don't fight it.  Don't think there's anything else.  Don't entertain the false premises of fate, luck or a God who judges, withholds, or decides.  You decide.  You manifest.  You rule.  This is why you are here.  This is what you came to discover.  You were born to experience your absolute dominion over every flimsy, malleable illusion of time and space; to have, do, and be anything.

Truthfully, it couldn't be any easier.  All you have to do is think of what you want and refuse to deviate from that thought.  This will, invariably, set you into motion, stir up the magic, and unleash the full force, power, and majesty of a Universe conspiring on your behalf.  It's worth everything you've got, Joan.  Be strong, be vigilant, take action, and the Kingdom of Heaven shall appear at your very feet.

I've got your back,

The Universe

BTW, Joan, Heaven has nothing to do with dying, and everything to do with being born, again, to truth.  Cool?

Thinking positively for for my near future and feeling grateful for my strong, healthy body and the support and love I have received during my recent "opportunity."  I'll let you all know how chemo goes.