Forgetfulness, the kindness of strangers, and a new outlook- post from Sheila

I’ve long snickered under my breath when Jason would misplace his car keys, leave his wallet at the grocery store and leave his pants zipper (and belt!) undone (now that’s a topic for another blog post!). Now I am the one leaving things behind. At dim sum yesterday, I left my plastic tea mug somewhere at the restaurant. I know I brought it with me when I left the table, but somewhere between the restroom and the car, it disappeared. Then, today, I left my stainless steel water container at the swimming pool during Oliver’s lessons. I’ve heard of chemo-brain, but I haven’t even started treatment yet!

My mom and dad came up to Seattle today and my mom and I went up to Phinney Ridge to try and find a wedding dress. I had been feeling low on energy and depressed for the past couple days, and it just came to a head today. I didn’t have any desire to look through the cute dresses at the Frock Shop, nor did I want to continue the search at other shops on the Ridge. Instead, I insisted we come back home, where I just lay in bed for awhile and cried. As I was crying, I told myself, “This is the lowest I will go. It has to go up from here.” My mom, upset herself, pulled it together and gave me a pep talk I will never forget. “We will take this one step at a time,” she said. “We’ll do the surgery, then the chemo, then the radiation. One thing at a time.”

How simple, but it was something I was resisting. I have been focusing on the possibility of this cancer recurring, running scenarios in my brain about what may or may not happen three, seven, nine years down the road. Then Jason made a good point: I need to put all my focus on beating this 100 percent NOW, so the cancer doesn’t have a fighting chance to return again.

Later, when my parents left and Jason went back downstairs to work, I thought about what they said. My mom and Jason were looking at this as a beatable thing, whereas I was focusing on every bad thing I have ever heard. I know the success stories outweigh the others. I just wasn’t thinking about them.

I decided today was the day to get back to normal, despite the remaining procedures, consultations and upcoming surgery. By “normal,” I mean grocery shopping, writing, working and exercising. I mean thinking about what I am going to cook for dinner instead of what kind of cancer I am going to get next. It means taking Oliver to buy his friend Toni a present for her birthday party Saturday instead of reading my cancer books.

Driven by a new energy (and the realization that I have two small windows of time before Friday to find myself a dress!), I got out of bed and went back up to Phinney Ridge. At one store, I found a gift for a friend. At another, I found a great top and a dress that just might be The Dress for Friday. The saleswoman was very nice. When I told her I was shopping for my wedding dress, she wanted all the details. After skirting the issue for a few minutes, I told her my situation. Details and all. We visited for awhile, she wrapped my purchases and I headed home.

It wasn’t until a few hours later when I was showing Jason my clothes that I discovered something small wrapped in tissue paper at the bottom of my bag. I pulled it out, removed the paper, and saw a cream-colored candle in the shape of an angel. The saleswoman had slipped this into my bag without me seeing. What a symbol to mark the beginning of a new outlook.

As touching as that gesture was, it doesn’t come close to the outreach that has come from my friends and family. Where to begin? Phone calls and cards. Emails and flowers. Blogs created, designed and diligently updated. Boxes of candy from Chicago. A cookie from Minneapolis. Brownies from Denver. Books, a make-a-wish necklace, a basket of popcorn and candy, and DVDs chosen from the heart. An offer from a friend to use her long blond hair for a wig. Another offer to create a plaster breast cast before my surgery. Painstakingly typed text messages from a friend who – text unsavvy – sends them anyway because I told her that they are less exhausting than phone calls right now.

My temporary forgetfulness may cause me to leave my water bottle behind, but the words, gifts, and good thoughts from loved ones will never be far from my mind. Thank you!