We had a big weekend. We just had our Ohio High School Skating Competition, and I so wanted to participate, and I did, as much as I could, and I thought I had it nailed, and I did, almost . If only it had ended when it was supposed to. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
It truly was a lovely weekend. Skate Mom’s still RULE. Because everyone knew my situation and understood, I was largely able to just be there when I could be there, and go home when I needed to not be there. I got Rebecca there on time both days, we cheered for team mates and Rebecca skated her events beautifully. Okay, she fell once, but she did great! Everybody did.
The skaters work really hard, all the time, showing up at the rink to practice when it isn’t easy, when they’d rather be sleeping, and when they know they still have to face homework when they get home. They practice when it’s crowded and there’s no fanfare and there’s no applause. It’s all worth it on weekends like this whether they get the medal, or almost get the medal, or learn what they need to do for the next medal. They all come with their game on, with smiles, and with well deserved pride.
They’ve got this. And they’ve got each other. The real prize is being there.
Here we are in the locker room getting ready Saturday morning:

And here is her entire “What The World Needs Now” team (traveled around the world, she was Spain):

And here is my girl on the podium, and yes, that is a Blue Ribbon Medal around her neck: 

And here she is after the event she won no medal for Sunday evening (look at that smile):

I knew I’d get tired, but I’d planned for that and I went home when I needed to. I forgot some things, I made an extra trip or two . . . forgot some other things anyway, and gave myself permission to not be perfect. Yup, I had it all covered. But I forgot one big thing that really should not have rocked me, but it did. The real world. Their timing, not mine. Of course the events ran behind by the end of the second day. Of course they did. Rebecca’s final event started almost an hour late. In and of itself, this was not an issue. I wasn’t shocked or out of sorts over things running late. My earlier “rest-time” was going to be sufficient.
Only it wasn’t. Because it wasn’t just me. My husband was tired, and he was hungry, and he was worried about his mother and whether she was hungry. And when Rebecca’s event was over we had to wait for the results. And then Rebecca needed help packing up. And my brilliant plan to distract my husband and mother-in-law by having them look at professional photo’s of the weekend backfired when neither of them knew the names of the events Rebecca had been in, and they needed help finding them while Rebecca needed help in the locker room, and the numerous, lengthy awards were just starting, and my head exploded. And I threw off my coat and kicked it across the lobby. Like a 4 year old.
And I was doing so well. The week immediately following an infusion is harder than it used to be. Fatigue is more pronounced, my knees hurt all the time, chemo-mouth sores last longer, I can’t taste anything, and decision nullifying chemo-brain is off the charts. I didn’t know how to say, “I want to feed everyone, but Rebecca (unlike me) has been here ALL weekend and deserves to see the Awards. I’m sorry I suggested it, but never mind the pictures.” That would have been simple. Right? It was too hard to put together.
As I write this, I realize I am tired of cataloguing the nuanced changes anyway. I’m tired of being tired, and I’m tired of needing special allowances and special favors. I’m tired of all of this. I am very weary of chemotherapy.
But, I only have ONE MORE TO GO!!!!!! Can you believe I’m actually not going to be Chemo-Girl in 3 weeks? Well, that brightens things a bit. No?
Yes, the end of chemo is a very bright thought for the day! And today is the day of L❤️VE! Place your hand over your heart and tell yourself “I love you”!
You have battled with courage and to only have had one 4-year-old tantrum is incredible to me! How heavy your burden, how strong your soul! I cannot wait to be there in person to celebrate the end of “chemo-girl”! Thank you for fighting so bravely for all of us who love you! ❤️
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I love you Sissta! Um, maybe I should own up to this being the only tantrum I’ve written about? No matter, the others were smaller (in my head). And it isn’t so brave when it isn’t optional. If there had been a button to opt out of having cancer, I’d have clicked there. BUT YOU WILL BE HERE SOON AND I CAN”T WAIT!!! I just had to get that out there. 🙂
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Love you!!!❤❤️💜💚💙
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Gosh I love you too! Thank you for everything, you are strong and I admire you so very much. You carry a lot of us through the bad stuff. Here’s to the good stuff!
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Amazing that you have gone this long without a meltdown; it is hard to be the grown-up when you feel tired and unwell week after week after week. Give yourself a huge dose of self-compassion and please realize you have every right to feel tired of all of this.
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Wow, thanks for still following this, and THANKS for the advise. I’m just gonna take that dose you recommended right now. Thank you.
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Dear Beautiful Adorable Lu,
I sure hope that are not feeling bad about throwing a little fit. Did you know that I threw a laundry basket down the steps and hit Tom( your sweet brother) on the head, on purpose? I was not going through Chemo or anything like that. Please give yourself and your family a hug. You are all amazing. It’s o.k. to lose it!
Anne C. Bruce
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You’re doing great. It’s hard to feel so tired. Great you were there for Rebecca. Love you!
Sent from my iPhone
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Thanks Amy! You especially know how this feels! And how tired are YOU? I think it’s great that you are here for me. It’s time to talk again. Love you!!!
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Annie! I probably should not tell you this, but my sweet mother probably should have hit Tom in the head with a laundry basket when he was younger. It may have saved you the trouble. But you’re right, everyone loses it sometimes, and you just made me feel better about it, seeing as how I did have a bit of an excuse and all. Love you!
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Luann, like the others above, I would not be too self-critical for a brief four-year-old tantrum. I wish I could have been with you, Jerry and the rest of the crew over the weekend to help out. You were a sensible grown-up for 99.9 percent of the time, and with what you’re facing, I doubt I would have done that well. And it sounds like the brief lapse was quickly forgiven. The big news is in the last two paragraphs, of course — the end of chemo is near! You will need a new reason to keep the blog going, because I look forward to hearing from you! Take good care of yourself, my friend.
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Thanks Scot! Next up, I get to be Radio-Active Chemogirl. I can’t wait for the transmogrification my own self! See you there I hope. 🙂
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👍🏻❣❣❣❣❣❣❣👯♂️👯♂️👯♂️👯♂️👯♂️👯♂️😻
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I didn’t comment earlier…feeling too sad for you. And yet knowing the end is in sight — glad for you. But on my return trip to Chemo Girl and reading Anne’s confessed tantrum, I had a good laugh at our brother’s expense. Thank you, Anne, not for the basket bonking, but for the telling of it!
This is Thursday, February 23, 2017, I suppose you’re feeling rotten two days after your LAST INFUSION. So here I am sending lots of love and support as you recover. This time you don’t have to get up just to be knocked down again. Yay…let the healing begin! And may the upcoming radiation be gentle with you — if and only if there must be radiation.
Get well, be well, stay well. I love you, dear sister.
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