Two weeks ago I sat in the dark on the floor in my son’s room with my back against his crib. My knees were curled up to my chest as the screen on my phone made figures on the ceiling. My husband’s supporting shoulder was next to mine but all I could feel was the weakness in my own figure. Tears smeared my face and neck while the air was filled with my sobs and our son’s sleepy breathing. I just wanted to feel normal again.

I went back to work about three weeks ago after resting at home for a month after chemotherapy to get my strength back. When the first week of work came, I was prepared to see my high school students and to have something to keep myself busy during the day. Teaching is my passion and I was ready to feel the buzz of busyness again. During the days at work, I pushed through with three cups of coffee and adrenaline, but at night my body crashed against the rocks of reality. My body was not strong enough yet and the strain of walking around like I used to made every muscle in my body scream at night.

After two weeks of working, my parents, especially my mom, noticed I was crashing and couldn’t stand to see my hurt myself. That’s what we were talking about on the phone as I sat on our son’s floor and I cried. I cried because I wanted to feel and be what I felt was normal. I didn’t want to monitor everything that I ate and spend the extra money on organic food. I didn’t want to feel exhausted when doing the minimum amount of moving and work. I wanted my hair to grow back so I didn’t look like a cancer patient anymore. I wanted everything I felt I had lost the last seven months during treatment.

“What is ‘normal'”? my mom asked over the phone. I’m starting to realize this is my normal – my and our new normal. Instead of feeling like I’ve been robbed of my old life – I have to think of it as I’m gaining a new one – a life that I almost lost.

I haven’t written much on this blog during treatment and since. It’s not because I didn’t have anything to say but because I felt I wasn’t being true to the reason why I started this blog – to chronicle marriage – and instead I was talking about recovery more than anything else; however, I think that is my new normal. This is the life I’m living today.

So here’s to a new blog – my reset. The chronicle of a recovering ovarian cancer survivor, wife, mother, and friend.

Ovarian Cancer is Nothing


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: