The Barefoot Lymphonista: Cancer, Cooking, and Celebrity Breakdowns

"It's probably Cancer....but you don't look sick so...just go home, enjoy Christmas"
Enjoy Christmas.  That's just some of the thoughtful bedside manner thrown our way at the beginning of our journey with lymphoma.  Just a week away from Baby Jesus' Birthday blitz and on top of trying to figure out what the hell to get my Mother - and avoiding purchasing everything I look at in Sephora for myself- I was trying to hold it together for me, for my husband, and biting my lips so hard to avoid spilling the beans to his family that I was starting to look like I'd had fillers. That's right....they didn't know. My Husband didn't want to shit on anyone else's Christmas. Just ours will suffice.  Did I mention I suck at secrets?  Did I mention that every single time I looked at or touched my Husband I'd burst into tears? Did I mention I was positive that this was our last Christmas and so everything had new meaning?   Every time was the last time and I just wanted to lay on the floor and sob. Did I mention it is now August and my Husband is cancer free? Yea. How about THAT!?
For my husband and I, hearing this past May that his scans were "clear" and his treatments were"over" was the goal.  The words we had dreamed of and the finish line we had steadily crawled towards through months of 96 hour chemo treatments (no- you didn't misread that) once every 3 weeks.  I thought when it was over it really would be over but the relief was short lived and the weight of cancer quickly replaced by the weight of an idea I have come to know and loath: "The New Normal".  Even now I can't help but say it like Kristin Wiig's, "relaxed", Annie in Bridesmaids with my face scrunched and my eyes rolling. "Ohhhh the newwww normalllll".  

When you or someone you love has, or has had cancer, life is never the same. Fact.  Everyday aches and pains that were once no big deal are now recurrences, tumors- apocalyptic crisis.  Your Oncology Nurse gets added to your list of "favorites" in your iPhone contacts and if you're me, you find yourself asking your husband, "how do you feel?" about 55 times a day and accusing him of lying every time the answer is, "I feel great".  The fear of recurrence can paralyze you almost as much as the initial diagnosis.  And before you know it, your life is being run by that new fucking normal.  The new normal being that it's, "normal" for you to be scared of everything so just embrace the terror, pull up a seat and ask it to stay for dinner. Forever. 

 I'd lament to other caregivers and survivors on message boards and Facebook chats how life would, "never be the same" and was reminded almost daily, "Jaclyn this is our new normal".  Fuck that noise.   No matter how hard I tried, the new normal and I just couldn't get chummy - I did my best to come to terms with the idea that my life was just going to be terrifying.  Every second of everyday.  So get used to it.  But I couldn't.  There are just so many other more fabulous guests I'd rather ask to stay for dinner.

So what do you do then?  How do you move on? 

Well poodle, that's what we're gonna figure out here together.

This is a blog about what happened after.  How life went on.  How life gets better. Gets shitty.  Gets better again.  But somehow it just keeps rolling along.  There will be crafting, beauty, casseroles, celebrity (and south jersey) gossip, a lil' cancer and chronic illness here and there, styling tips and lots and lots of LIVING! Because that is what life is all about.

Sometimes I will be as profound as those damn Yogi tea bag tags that leave me hysterically crying at my desk and sometimes I'll be sharing stories (and God willing, video) of my cat and I performing scenes from EVITA.  Either way I hope you'll be with me.

c'est si bon,
jkd