Step 2 starts tomorrow (Thursday) for my IV chemo. Every 2 weeks (give or take) for 9 rounds I will get FOLFOX. I am all sorts of nervous, but also confident. Nervous because this is the first round. The unknowns. Anxious to know how my body will respond. 46 hours of take-home chemo. How will that go? Can I make it to my kids games on Saturday and Sunday? Will Chris have the burden of kids and laundry and dinner and house stuff? I know he is capable.

I know I should let it go but I still worry. On the flip side of these concerns, I am confident because I am mentally and physically strong and ready-to-go for this next stage. The extra week off of treatments has been very nice. My bum is healing nicely and at times, I feel like my normal self. But then I got my port. I think it looks gross like Frankenstein’s monster. My port looks nothing like the example where it is smooth and barely a bump. Mine is a very defined, plastic protruding object inconveniently located right where my sports bra would go. I kept accidentally hitting my port on various things yesterday and it hurt.

To top off this “fun” experience, I have also felt more limited in the gym, which if you know me, is not something I want to acknowledge or admit. My mental escape is not an escape but a reminder of my limitations. Again, I know this too shall pass and is only for a short time. For now, I will avoid bumping or hitting my port. The doctor and nurses encouragingly say the scar won’t be too big or too noticeable. But we all have scars. Some bigger than others. Some still weighing us down. Some a good memory. Some a time in life we would rather skip over. But these scars are important. They mold us into who we are. How we love ourselves and others. Maybe my port scar will be a reminder to be kinder to myself. To remember all the friends and family who pour into us and love us so well and to do that to others. Handling cancer is a daily task and I am going to celebrate the good and the bad. Today is a good day and for that I am thankful. Tomorrow begins a new journey. So village, here we go again into the storm.